In These Troubled Times
by aethra
Summary: Thrown together in trying circumstances an unlikely pair finds their way home, but their lives will never be the same.
1. Prologue

A/N: Alright, I know that I shouldn't be starting a new story until I finish the stories that I already have going, but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to start writing it down. That said, I haven't abandoned any of the older stories either. This story is going to be a little different, however and I apologize in advance if it doesn't play out too smoothly. Aside from the prologue, the story's main action will be taking place in 2008, and the back story will be told mostly through flashbacks. Bear with me and we'll see if I can't make it work.

Summary: Thrown together in trying circumstances an unlikely pair finds their way home, but their lives may never be the same.

Disclaimer

**Prologue:**

_February 22, 2006_

Sitting alone in a semi-dark room a bearded man studied a game board in silence before picking up one of the pieces. Curling his fingers around the pawn he resisted the urge to throw it against the wall, to knock over the board and end the game without playing it through – there was no point to it after all. No point to the game, but no point to a tantrum either – neither would gain him anything. Sighing he returned the piece to its proper position without any unseemly outburst; he wasn't normally given to fits of temper, indeed his patience and stoic demeanor had always been a marked contrast to his brother's more . . . quixotic nature. Today, however, he'd been plagued by restlessness, a nervous energy that he couldn't seem to exorcise – there was a change coming – he could feel it, but whether the change would be for good or ill . . .

Change, he sighed again shaking his head at his own useless flight of fancy, nothing ever changed here. And if he was beginning to imagine such a thing then perhaps he had finally gone crazy. He dismissed the thought from his mind as useless fantasy and resumed his study of the board. Finally he choose to move his rook, capturing a knight and threatening his opponent's king – the move would cost him the rook, but it would also pull his opponent's queen out of position leaving the king vulnerable to his bishop in three moves. "Check," he murmured quietly.

Setting the captured piece down, he turned the board and began his study again from the new angle, now concerned with finding a way to save his king.

He didn't bother to turn on a light as he emerged from the bedroom, he would be able to find his way blindfolded much less in the faint light of the full moon streaming in through the bulletproof glass on his window. He had been the sole occupant of this spacious suite for four years now. His prison contained a bedroom, a bathroom and a study – its walls lined with books. A servant came three times a day to bring him meals and the new books that he regularly requested. Anything that he might desire was provided for him, as long as it could be contained within these walls. He was denied any means of communicating with the outside world. He was provided with books and newspapers but the computer and telephone were strictly forbidden. His prison might be more luxurious than most but that didn't make him any less a captive.

With a sigh the he lowered himself into his armchair, but he neither turned on a light nor picked up the book that he had abandoned there before he retired. Instead he closed his eyes and attempted to determine what it was that so disturbed him. He'd lain abed for the better part of an hour before giving up on the possibility of sleep – his mind was unwilling to rest tonight, still plagued by a vague sense of foreboding. Sitting here, alone in the dark, he could almost imagine that he was in his own study so many miles away.

A moment later his eyes flew opened as he registered an unfamiliar voice. He glanced around the empty room once before closing his eyes again and trying to pinpoint its source. Eyes still closed he rose and walked in the direction the noise was coming from. He stumbled momentarily as he forgot to skirt around the furniture but didn't stop until his hands brushed against the smooth wood of a closed door.

This locked door had been a mystery, an unceasing torment, to him the first year of imprisonment. This was not the door through which his guards and the servants entered his rooms, indeed this door had never been opened, and in time he had had to accept the fact that he would never know what lay on the other side. With acceptance had come indifference and in time its existence had ceased to register. But now, now something was changing.

Resting his ear against the wood in the hopes of learning more he was unsurprised when a familiar voice joined the conversation. _What was she doing now?_ he wondered. He spared only a moment to consider the consequences before raising his hand – what more could she really take from him?

He knocked firmly. "Mother, I can hear you in there, open this door," he demanded.

There was a moment of absolute silence from the other room before he heard the lock turning and the door opened.

He brushed passed the guard with an indifferent glance stepping into the room to confront his mother. "What -" he broke off his question in surprise as he watched two men bearing a young woman on a stretcher walk passed trailed by a man in a lab coat carrying a medical bag.

"Be silent Stefan," his mother commanded coldly as she followed the procession down a short hallway.

Joining the group in a large bedroom, Stefan realized that he had entered into a suite much like his own. "What are you doing to her?" he asked watching the doctor prepare a syringe. He felt two sets of restraining hands on his shoulders and arms before he was able to act on the impulse to interfere.

"With any luck, I'm bringing her back to life," the doctor said calmly, turning her arm up so that he could find a good vein. He inserted the needle confidently and depressed the plunger, withdrawing it and waiting to see if there would be any effect.

A moment later she arched up on the bed fighting for air. Once her breathing steadied she relaxed back onto the bed and lay still once more. The doctor pressed a stethoscope to her chest, checking for any irregularities in her breathing or her heartbeat.

"Amazing," he murmured at last, "simply amazing." Despite his words, the doctor's manner was detached as he turned towards Helena, "the drug worked just as we hoped it would. Her breathing and heart rate slowed to undetectable levels. She was pronounced dead in the hospital. I gave her the first stage of the antidote just before we boarded the plane, but I noticed no perceptible change. I had begun to think I'd killed her in truth. And now here she is, breathing on her own."

"And otherwise?" Helena asked as she watched the pale form on the bed.

"Brain damage? There's no way to be certain until she wakes up, if she wakes up. The drugs should clear her system by tomorrow, we'll know more then."

"What have you done, Mother?" Stefan asked at last, though he feared he already knew the answer – _Was this the same drug he had given to Lesley Webber so many years ago?_

"I'd like a few moments alone with my son," Helena dismissed the doctor and waved away the guards. She waited until everyone else had left the room before moving to sit on the edge of the woman's bed.

"What have I done?" she repeated the question turning to look at Stefan at last. "Merely removed an obstacle from my path. It's nothing to concern yourself about my son, she's only a peasant, and not even dead after all. Indeed, you should be grateful, surely you've become a bit lonely after all this time, and now you will have some company." She glanced down at the young woman, "such as she is."

"Company? So you intend to imprison her here as well. Why? She's not family, so what can she have done to merit this?" He asked as he studied the still body – she was young, certainly not more than twenty-five or twenty-six. "In what way has this poor woman harmed you?"

"Harm?" Helena laughed at Stefan's confusion. "None. She has actually done us a great service," she replied stroking the woman's pale hair. "But her usefulness is at an end now, so I removed her from the situation."

She rose from the bed and went to Stefan, "I'm sorry if her presence here will trouble you my son, but she proved more resourceful than I expected – she actually managed to escape from her last prison and I can't risk that happening again, not now that she is dead. And then I realized where better to keep her than here, with you who are also dead."

"Why is she here, Mother?" Stefan asked again.

"She gave Nikolas a son," Helena answered simply. "And while I am pleased by my new heir, she would be an entirely inappropriate influence on the child and on Nikolas. I actually considered killing her in truth, but you know how I despise waste, and she may someday be useful again."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

_August 15, 2008 – present day_

Luke Spencer sat leaned back in his chair and lit a cigar, grinning at his partner in crime as they counted the nights take.

"Not bad for a night's work," Robert drawled spinning the dial on the safe under the bar.

"Life is good," Luke agreed sipping his scotch. "Good booze, plenty of money and every night beautiful women parade around this room. Why didn't we go into the casino business years ago?"

"Not enough danger," Robert suggested. "We craved intrigue. Damn fools," he mumbled.

Luke sent him a sour look. "It has been awhile since our last adventure," he grumbled. "I haven't even been arrested in months."

"Not since Anna got mixed up with Alcazar," Robert recalled. "That was a good time." He grinned thinking about what exactly he and Anna had done to while away the hours in that hotel room while they waited for the heat to die down so that they could bail Luke out.

A few moments later they realized what a mistake it had been to tempt fate, when a dark clad man stepped through the doors.

"We're closed for the night," Luke called without looking up.

"I'm not here to gamble," a familiar and very unwelcome voice answered, sounding a bit strained, "at least not with money."

"What the hell!" Luke cursed knocking his chair over as he jumped to his feet. "Doesn't anybody stay dead anymore?" Luke shot a suspicious glance at his glass before looking back towards the intruder.

Startled by Luke's reaction Robert studied their visitor intently; he certainly looked as if he'd just crawled out of his grave. Dressed all in black, he was pale with dark circles under his eyes, and Robert suspected that the hand resting on the door jam was the only thing holding him upright.

"No, you're not hallucinating me," the words answered Luke's unspoken question, "and I'm not dead."

"That's funny, because I distinctly remember your funeral. I checked the coffin myself to make sure you were dead," Luke answered.

"It's a long story," Stefan said, trying to stand up straighter as he tensed for a confrontation with Luke. "I need help, and given that I came here, I'm sure you can figure out how desperate I am and who I'm running from."

"Hang on here, just one minute," Robert interrupted looking to Luke for an explanation. "Who the hell is this?" he asked.

"Ah Robert, I guess you haven't had the displeasure, have you? You were dead the last time he was in Port Charles. And he was dead by the time you resurrected yourself. Meet Stefan Cassadine. Undead spawn of Mikkos and Helena's, Stavros's brother."

"That's quite a pedigree," Robert turned towards the man, who no longer looked quite as helpless. "What's he doing coming to you?"

"Good question. What do you want Cassadine? I'm sure you didn't crawl out of your grave to just to come calling, what makes me think I'd help you? Why not go to Wyndewierd?"

"You hate me," Stefan spoke the words calmly. "The feeling's mutual I assure you. But one thing I know for sure - you hate _her_ more. You're the only one who I could be sure wouldn't hand us over to Helena, and this is the last place she will look for us."

Luke couldn't really argue with that assessment, there wasn't anyone he hated more than Helena, unless, "Us?" he questioned sharply. "You having delusions of friendship, Vlad? Or did your popsicle brother come back from the dead with you? Well show him in, I'll send you both back to hell."

"No," Stefan shook his head, the slight movement unbalancing him enough that he stumbled back grabbing onto the wall once more for support. "I wouldn't put it past my mother to be hiding him somewhere, but as far as I know Stavros never emerged from that pit you pushed him into."

"Who's this 'us' then?" Luke asked, "You pick up a sidekick somewhere along the way?"

"Courtney Matthews," Stefan supplied the name quietly.

"Sonny's sister?" Luke interrupted him, "Isn't she dead, too?"

Stefan laughed bitterly. "She's as dead as I am, which is to say my mother was holding her as well. We escaped together and made our way here." His eyes found Luke's and as much as he hated humbling himself to this man he had no choice, "Will you help us?" he asked.

"What're asking for?" Luke wasn't about to make any open ended promises, not to a Cassadine.

"A place to hide for a few days," Stefan said. "And Courtney needs a doctor, someone who can be trusted not to say anything to anyone."

"The girl's hurt?" Luke asked, rushing past Stefan to find Courtney propped against the wall in the hallway just outside the room – she was passed out cold. _No, not cold,_ he realized once he touched her cheek, _she was burning up_. "Robert!" he yelled, "Call Robin. Tell her to get over here and bring her doctor bag with her." He scooped the woman up into his arms, surprised by how little she weighed. Not waiting to see whether or not Stefan would follow, he started down the hallway towards the back of the boat.

Luke turned down another hallway before finally pausing outside of the last door. He adjusted the unconscious woman in his arms so that he could manage the door knob and then push the door opened with his shoulder. Gently setting her down on the bed, he took stock of her apparent injuries. "What the hell happened to you, sweetheart?" he muttered before turning to glare at Stefan and repeat the question. "What happened to her?"

Stefan didn't answer immediately. Coming around to sit on the far side of the bed Stefan reached out to touch her face. "Her fever's climbing," he noted. "Can you get a doctor here?"

"Robert's on it," Luke said. "What happened to her?"

"She was injured when we escaped," Stefan evaded the question neatly. "I tended her wounds as best I could, but we couldn't risk stopping for long or trusting a doctor and she said she was alright. Then the fever set in this morning – some of her injuries must have become infected."

"Injured in the escape?" Luke repeated the story incredulously. "You don't really think I'm going to buy that do you?" He looked down at her bruised face – "Someone beat the #$ out of her."

Stefan didn't bother to dispute that but he didn't offer any further explanation either.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

"What mess have you two gotten yourselves into this time?" Robin asked as she and Patrick stepped onto the deck of the Haunted Star.

"Sweetheart, why must you always assume that Luke and I are getting ourselves into trouble?" Robert countered, deliberately evading her question as he greeted his daughter, kissing her on the cheek.

"You call me out here in the middle of the night because someone needs a doctor and can't be taken to the hospital. I think I'm entitled to assume that there's trouble involved," Robin said.

"And right you are my dear," Robert smiled at her. "You know your old dad so well. But this time it's not our trouble. Strangers appeared in the night asking for our aid, and being the good Samaritans that we are, Luke and I offered it." Robin snorted at the thought of Luke and Robert in the role of good Samaritans.

"Well, not strangers perhaps, but one of them is certainly strange," Luke spoke up from the doorway. "Right this way Doctor Robin, Doctor Drake the younger. I hope that we can trust you both to be discreet."

"By 'be discreet' do you mean lie to the police?" Patrick asked as he followed Luke's directions down the hallway.

"I mean lie to everybody," Luke answered. "As in this visit never happened, no matter who asks."

"I'm in," Patrick promised with a trademark grin, while Robin rolled her eyes at him.

"How illegal are we talking here?" Robin asked with a sigh as she stepped into the semi-dark stateroom – she wasn't going to turn her dad in, but she wanted to know what she was getting herself into here.

"Not at all," a smooth voice spoke from the shadows. "We have committed no crimes, nor – to the best of my knowledge – are we wanted by the authorities, at least not any reputable ones."

She didn't recognize him standing there in the dark, but there was something familiar about that voice. "Miss Scorpio," he greeted her stepping into the light so that she could see him better. "Ah, forgive me; it is Dr. Scorpio now, I understand. Congratulations on your achievement."

"Mr. Cassadine?" Robin gasped. She remembered Stefan as a foreboding presence at Wyndermere, Nikolas's father/uncle who never approved of her. But wasn't he . . . "I thought you were dead?" she managed to say at last – not the most eloquent of greetings, but all things considered she didn't think anyone would blame her.

"He's supposed to be," Luke grumbled irritably. "But you know how it is with vampires, no matter how many times you put them in the ground they just keep digging themselves back up." He glared at Stefan, "Next time I kill you I'm going to do it the old fashioned way – a stake through the heart, see if you turn to dust."

Stefan's only response to the familiar threat was a slight smile, Luke's words were more a confirmation of the fact that he was home than anything else.

Listening to the brief but heavily charged exchanges Patrick was lost, there was clearly history that he wasn't privy to between the occupants of this room. "Someone called for a doctor?" he asked breaking the awkward silence that had descended in the wake of Luke's threat.

"Indeed," Stefan confirmed. "My companion requires medical attention. She was . . . injured and has become ill."

"You don't look so hot yourself," Patrick mentioned eyeing Stefan's pale complexion while Robin went to check on the still form resting in the bed.

"I," Stefan hesitated, "I am well enough, merely tired. Our journey was difficult."

"Courtney?" Robin gasped as she recognized her patient's face. She turned to Stefan for confirmation. "Is this really Courtney Matthews?" she asked.

"She is," Stefan confirmed simply. "She has been injured and I believe the wound is infected. Her fever is rising." He sat down on the edge of the bed and let one hand brush across her forehead to check her temperature, looking up at Robin he continued. "You must help her," he commanded.

"I'll do what I can," Robin promised opening her medical bag and taking out both a thermometer and her blood pressure cuff. She glanced at Patrick nodding in Stefan's direction and hoping that he would take the hint as she bent over Courtney.

Patrick caught Robin's look and addressed Stefan. "How about you and I go into the next room and I can give you a once over while Robin checks out your friend," he suggested.

"I said I'm well," Stefan shrugged off Patrick's suggestion. "I have no intention of leaving her alone," his grip tightened on Courtney's hand – they had come too far for him to abandon her now.

"I need to examine her," Robin explained gently as she looked over at Stefan, "in private." She emphasized that requirement when he met her gaze with a deliberately blank look. "You're going to have to leave anyway, so you might as well let Patrick check you out."

"That is unacceptable," Stefan denied. "I promised to protect her. I will stay while you examine her." His unyielding tone didn't surprise her - the Stefan Cassadine that Robin remembered had been accustomed to getting his own way.

"No, you won't," she countered, her tone just as firm as his. "Courtney is my patient now and I'm going to protect her privacy. I'm not going to allow an audience while I examine her. She needs treatment and if she's going to get that you're going to have to leave."

"The last doctor she saw poisoned her and faked her death so that he could give her to my mother. Courtney is unconscious, she can't defend herself. I'm not leaving her alone –with you or anyone else."

A moment of stunned silence followed Stefan's declaration. With Courtney's still form lying between them Robin looked over at Stefan. "You know me," she said quietly. "You know I'm not working for Helena and I'm not planning on killing anyone. There's only one door and you'll be right outside – I couldn't spirit her away from here even if I wanted to." Seeing the resolve in his face she tried again, "I get that you're trying to protect Courtney here, but you're not helping her by keeping her from medical attention."

Stefan looked down at Courtney's pale face as he struggled with his choices. She looked so vulnerable, everything in him was telling him that he couldn't abandon her when she was too weak to protect herself, but if he couldn't help her. . . "Very well," he granted at last. "You may examine her." He met Robin's gaze as he continued his orders, "But you will give her no drugs or medications without giving me the opportunity to verify them."

Rising to his feet without waiting for a response to his command, Stefan turned his gaze on the other occupants of the room pausing while he waited for them to precede him out the door – he would allow Robin to examine Courtney alone, but he was unwilling to leave the others at his back – Spencer in particular could not be trusted with so much temptation.

Luke felt his lips quirk in an unwilling smile as he met Stefan's suspicious gaze – 'some things never changed,' he thought gesturing for Drake and Robert to go ahead before he approached Stefan. "Let's not forget who it was came begging who for help here, Cassadine. You don't give the orders. You want something from me you might want to start showing a little gratitude." Offering a cocky smile he turned to lead Stefan from the room and nearly ran into Robert who was paused just outside the door. Giving his old pal a good natured shove he entered the hallway and turned to wait for Stefan.

It was clear that the hesitation in Stefan's movements was not solely the result of his reluctance to leave his companion. He moved slowly and with some effort – and though he did manage to hold himself erect, it was a pale imitation of his normal gait. As soon as the door closed behind him, Patrick spoke up. "So, you going to let me examine you while we wait?" he asked.

"No." Stefan didn't even spare Patrick a glance. He took two steps away from the door before reconsidering his motion with a grimace. Refusing to look at Luke, not wanting to see the laughter in his foe's eyes, he moved closer to the wall resting his hand on it casually, unwilling to admit that he needed the support.

Patrick smiled slightly shaking his head. "You might want to reconsider," he said. "You see that thing you just did - where you sway like you're about to pass out, and I'm betting your vision goes a little gray at the edges," he paused waiting for a confirmation from the older man but got only silence. "I'll take that as a yes," he said continuing his lecture, "that's more than exhaustion, that's because you're not getting enough oxygen. Your breathing is too shallow; now since you're not actively coughing up blood I think we can rule out a punctured lung, but I'd like to check you out just in case. If you have broken ribs then excessive exertion can lead to that sort of complication."

"There's nothing wrong with my ribs," Stefan denied stubbornly refusing to admit to any weakness in Luke's presence. "And I am not inclined to submit to any physical evaluation with him here."

Patrick considered suggesting that they move to one of the other rooms for the exam but given the difficulty they'd had getting him to leave Courtney he didn't think he was likely to have any luck.

Luke spoke up before Patrick could try again. "What harm can it do to let him check you out Steffin?" Luke goaded him. "Not like you're going to be much use to the girl anyway in the condition you're in. I doubt you could protect yourself from a rampaging kitten, much less keep yourself and the girl safe from Old Hells."

Stefan scowled at Luke. He had pushed himself away from the wall and stepped toward Luke with the intention of proving how fit he was when another wave of vertigo hit causing him to stumble. He managed to remain upright but could no longer deny that something was wrong. "Very well," he conceded at last. "Do what you feel is necessary, but you're going to have to do it right here because I'm not going anywhere."

"This is my boat, bub. I ain't leavin' him unsupervised, least not until I got a better idea what's going on," was Luke's only response to the suggestion that he and Robert might give this doctor and patient a little privacy as well.

Recognizing that it was useless to argue the point Stefan consented to enduring the exam despite Luke's presence. At the doctor's direction he removed his shirt and stoically endured Luke's snickering at the sight of his bruised torso. With an impatient sigh he breathed as deeply as he was able so that Drake could listen to his lungs and heartbeat.

After a few minutes of prodding Patrick shook his head. "Your ribs are either badly bruised or fractured, I can't tell for certain without an x-ray. Either way you'll want to take it easy for a few weeks to give them a chance to heal. Otherwise," he sighed, "your respiration is shallow, most likely because of the pain in your ribs, and your heart rate is faster than I would like. For the moment, I'm going to assume that is because of your injuries, probably a fair amount of adrenaline in your system as well. If you're as exhausted as you seem that's probably the only thing keeping you going. It's nothing to get worked up over at this point, but I would like to check you out again in a week or so to be sure it comes down." He leveled a serious gaze at Stefan, "Between the ribs and the elevated heart rate I can't emphasize heavily enough how important it is that you take it easy for a while. You need to give your body a chance to recover."

"Indeed, Doctor," Stefan responded dryly. "Unfortunately, when my mother shows up here I do not believe that a doctor's note will convince her to leave me in peace."

"Oh she'll leave you in peace alright," Luke taunted him grinning. "Resting in peace. That's Helena for you, always the picture of maternal devotion." Luke took a moment to laugh at his own joke abruptly switching mode – he became deadly serious. "Alright then," he said clapping his hands together loudly. "Now that we have the all clear from your doctor, we should talk."

"What would you have me say, Spencer?" Stefan asked resigned to the interrogation – he'd known that this would be a consequence of coming to Luke for help.

"You could start with explaining how it is you're not _dead_! Follow that up with where the hell you've been for the last five years."

That Luke's questions were more occupied with the past than the present hadn't escaped Robert's notice. "I'd like to know what happened to you and the girl and what you're running from?" he interjected before Stefan could answer Luke's inquiries.

Luke snorted shaking his head as he turned to Robert. "That one's obvious," he answered for Stefan. "He's running from Mama, aren't you, Vlad?"

"I would prefer to avoid Helena until my position is solidified," Stefan agreed. "Indeed my mother's twisted plans are the basis for the answer to all of your questions."

Stefan winced as the deep, calming breath he'd attempted to take as a preface to his narrative was stifled by the pain in his ribs. He shook his head, there would be no benefit in putting off the telling of his story, indeed he might as well accustom himself to the telling as he would likely be required to explain his existence to many people. "Why am I alive?" he repeated Luke's question taking a moment to ponder his answer, abandoning the philosophical nature of the question he offered the simple truth. "Why should I not be? I am not the man you killed five years ago."

Stefan shook his head, ignoring Luke's impatient muttering started again. "Perhaps it would help if I began at the beginning. I left Port Charles six years ago, turning over the Cassadine Estate to Nikolas I went to Milan in search of peace – I did not find it. I had been in Milan for only a few months before I was taken. My mother arranged for my imprisonment at a private villa she had purchased in France. I remained there until three days ago."

"You expect us to believe that?" Luke challenged him. "You were here, in Port Charles, five years ago. You came to force Nikky into marrying that Karenin broad, you tried to off Emily Quartermaine and got Summer Halloway instead. You were here."

"No," Stefan denied. "I was not."

"Yes, you were," Luke repeated stubbornly. "I remember 'cause I killed you." He smiled, fond of the memory despite the fact that Stefan's suicide note, while saving him from prison had lessened the glory of his triumph.

"And yet here I stand. So clearly, things did not happen exactly the way you believed them, too."

"Then how did things happen?" Robert interrupted before Luke and Stefan could get into another round. "Your presence in Port Charles five years ago and your death are a matter of public record. It's not like Luke just hallucinated the entire incident."

"After bringing me to France," Stefan explained, "Helena attempted to convince me that a marriage between Nikolas and Lydia Karenin would be in Nikolas's best interest – what she really meant was that such a union would give her an heir with the desired pedigree. I had no intention of coercing Nikolas into a loveless marriage whose sole purpose would be the production of an heir and I said as much." Stefan shook his head as he remembered his own folly, "I did not anticipate the lengths to which my mother would go to foster the match. When I refused to cooperate she found another who would. She remade him in my image and when she was done he was her ultimate pawn."

"So, that really wasn't you?" Luke asked in disbelief. "He looked . . ."

"Yes," Stefan commented bitterly. "I'm told that he wore my face well, that even my closest family failed to detect his deception."

"How did she find someone who looked so much like you?" It was Robert who asked this time, more interested than Luke in the details of the situation. Though he supposed that given Luke's involvement at the time, he couldn't be faulted for getting caught up in the drama.

"She didn't find him; she created him," Stefan continued his story. "Her pawn bore only a superficial resemblance to me when she procured him. However, my mother has maintained a skilled plastic surgeon in her employ for years, she set him the task of reconstructing my face on another."

"Helena has a plastic surgeon?" Luke asked in surprise.

"Mother hasn't aged a day in over 10 years. How did you imagine she maintained her youthful appearance?" Stefan asked wryly.

"Bathing in the blood of virgins?" Luke suggested, only half joking.

"These days plastic surgeons are much easier to find than virgins," Stefan observed.

"Plastic surgery might explain his appearance, but what about everything else?" Robert spoke up trying to steer the conversation back towards the question at hand. "Memories, speech patterns, there are a million different clues that can give away someone's identity. How could he have learned all of those?"

"Helena is my mother, she knows me very well. She also had the benefit of my presence, and she spent a fair amount of time studying me. As for her pawn's training -" Stefan looked towards Luke. "I am certain you remember that my mother had experimented with brain washing in the past – this was a continuation of that experiment, though on a grander scale. He was not imitating me; he believed himself to be me."

Stefan's stern countenance hid the resurgence of bitterness that always accompanied this particular point – how could they not have known? "I am certain mistakes were made," he offered the only justification that he had been able to find for his family's blindness, "but Nikolas and Alexis needed me. In the face of the financial crisis and Alexis's personal problems, any inconsistencies were overlooked. No one ever questioned his authenticity."

Luke was about to renew his interrogation when the stateroom door opened.

Stefan swung around quickly, resting a hand on the wall for support, but never taking his eyes off of Robin Scorpio. "How is she?" he asked.

"I think you and I should talk," Robin suggested softly holding the door opened so that Stefan could join her in Courtney's room. "We'll only be a few minutes," she assured her father blocking his entrance to the room when he attempted to join them. "I just need to ask Mr. Cassadine a few questions about Courtney's injuries."

She closed the door turning around to find that Stefan had already made his way to Courtney's bedside. "What do you need to know?" he asked without looking up.

"What can you tell me about Courtney's injuries?" Robin kept the question deliberately vague in an attempt to solicit as much information as possible.

"You've examined her," Stefan answered. "You've seen her injuries for yourself."

"Yes," Robin acknowledged, "but I was hoping that you could tell me a little more."

When Stefan said nothing Robin realized that she was taking the wrong track – vague questions were only going to illicit vague answers from this man. Even at his most cooperative he wasn't inclined to volunteering unnecessary information. "How long ago did Courtney receive these injuries?" she questioned.

"It's been three days."

"And you didn't try to get her medical attention sooner?"

That got his attention, and Stefan was more talkative in his defensiveness over the implied accusation. "We couldn't risk finding a doctor," he said. "If Helena had gotten to us before we made it back here . . . No, it was a risk we could not take. I used alcohol to disinfect her wounded hand and bandaged it as best I could – beyond that there was nothing we could do."

Robin turned Courtney's hand over, holding it in her own; this was her most serious injury – a deep gash across Courtney's palm, it had needed stitches. "What caused this wound?" she asked.

Flashback

Tears in her eyes Courtney looked up at Stefan; she was clearly in shock. He watched her bring a hand up to brush the hair out of her face, not noticing the bloody trail that left behind.

"Courtney," despite his concern Stefan kept his voice calm trying to soothe her. He approached her slowly holding out his hand. "Let me look at your hand," he suggested. "We'll need to clean that wound."

"My hand?" Courtney's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what he was saying to her. She glanced down at her hands and gasped when she saw the blood. She swayed slightly as she watched the blood drip down her fingers to the floor. "It doesn't hurt," she whispered looking back at Stefan. "Why doesn't it hurt?"

"Because you're in shock," he said. "You will feel it later." Taking her arm Stefan drew Courtney into the bathroom. Helping her to sit down on the side of the bathtub he left her for a moment, returning with bottle of scotch and a clean sheet which he proceeded to tear into strips. Courtney sat passively watching as he crouched in front of her and examined her hand, cleaning it under the faucet before using a pair of tweezers to pick out the shards of glass as best he could. Having cleaned the wound as best he could, he splashed her hand with the liquor and bound it with a strip of cloth.

Stefan looked up from Courtney's hand into her face and grimaced as he saw the streaks of blood. Grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet beneath the sink, he ran it under the water, using it to wipe the stain from her face and hair. By the time Courtney was clean Stefan had a developed a plan.

"Courtney," he said trying to get her attention, when the gaze that met his was still glassy, Stefan shook her lightly trying to wake her up enough to focus on his words. "Listen to me," he commanded, when her eyes focused on his face he continued, "We have to go, now. This may be our only chance. Do you understand?"

Courtney nodded and Stefan hoped that it was because she really understood and not an automatic response to the question. "We have to get ready and I need you to help me. Can you do that?"

She nodded again. "I have to go back to my room to get a few things. I need you to go to your room. Change your clothes, put on something warm and inconspicuous. Pack only what you'll need and by no means more than you can carry. I'll be back in a few minutes." Stefan stood up, pulling Courtney to her feet as well. "Alright?" he asked.

"I'll be ready," Courtney whispered waiting until he left before limping towards her own room.

End Flashback

"Glass, she sliced her palm on a piece of broken glass." Stefan said simply, offering no more details.

Robin sighed, laying Courtney's hand back on the bed she turned to Stefan; she remembered his request – demand – that he be allowed to verify Courtney's treatment before she was given any medications. "I haven't given her anything yet, but you need to understand that Courtney's very sick. She seems to be suffering from a systemic infection, likely originating from the wound on her hand. I'm going to put her on broad spectrum antibiotics to try to combat the infection. Her fever is very high and she's already dehydrated – I'd like to give her IV fluids at least until she regains consciousness."

"She _will_ regain consciousness?"

Robin couldn't be certain whether Stefan was telling or asking but she offered her reassurance anyway. "If the antibiotics do their job she should recover fully. I'll take a blood sample to the lab just to be sure that there isn't anything I'm missing." Robin hesitated unsure of how to ask her next question but knowing that it was necessary. "Should I be testing for," she paused and then started again forcing herself to meet his eyes and trying to forget that the man she was discussing this with was Stefan Cassadine. "Courtney's injuries, the bruising on her – on her legs, they're consistent with rape. Should I run tests for sexually transmitted diseases?"

At the word 'rape' Stefan dropped his gaze; he stared at Courtney for a moment before answering. "Yes," his clipped response conveyed a wealth of emotion – primarily fury and guilt, causing Robin remembered his words from earlier in the evening. 'I promised to protect her,' Stefan had said; she realized that it was his failure to protect Courtney before that must be driving him so hard now.

"There are more tests that we should do," Robin said quietly, "a rape kit to gather evidence so that whoever did this can be prosecuted.

"That will not be necessary, Dr. Scorpio," Stefan dismissed the idea immediately.

"I understand that you don't like to involve the police," Robin said with a sigh, "but the man who did this to her needs to be stopped. If he's allowed to go free he could attack someone else."

"You misunderstand me," Stefan answered. "There is no purpose to such an examination. The attack occurred days ago and was unsuccessful, there is no evidence to gather."

"Unsuccessful?" Robin questioned. "So she wasn't raped? Then the blood tests . . ."

"Are still necessary," Stefan answered, his voice cold. "This was not the first time he attacked her, merely the last."

"The last," there was a definite finality to his tone and Robin's eyes widened as she caught the implication. "He's dead isn't he? Did you – did you kill him?"

A slight smile graced Stefan's lips but he declined to answer. "Unless you have any further questions about Courtney's injuries," he said, "this conversation is over."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Here we are again," Stefan murmured settling into the chair by Courtney's bed. Drs. Scorpio and Drake had returned to General Hospital for supplies but would be returning shortly. Stefan was grateful for even a temporary reprieve; he needed only a few moments of peace and quiet to restore his equilibrium.

"Again?" Stefan heard Spencer's voice behind him. "You spend a lot of time sitting by the girl's bed while she's unconscious?"

"This does remind me a bit of our first meeting," he answered with a resigned sigh realizing that he wasn't going peace any time soon, "when my mother brought her to our shared prison."

* * *

FLASHBACK

In the two days since Helena and her 'doctor' had delivered Courtney to this suite and left her unconscious with only Stefan for company he had rarely left her side. He didn't speak to her or coax her to awaken; he simply spent his time in her room. It was no great adjustment to his daily routine – he simply brought his newspaper or book with him, sometimes he read aloud wondering if she could hear him.

Stefan didn't know why he felt compelled to remain with her. Perhaps despite his solitary nature he desired some modicum of human contact, even unconscious she was more company than he was accustomed to. However, when he considered the matter he mostly chose to credit her relationship with Nikolas as the cause for his concern. She was his nephew's fiancée, the mother of Nikolas's child, so he stayed with her, he waited for her to wake up – he did it for Nikolas.

The morning that Courtney opened her eyes was much like any other, Stefan was reading Euripides – not one of his favorite works, but Helena's visits frequently brought Medea to his mind.

"I know you." Stefan looked up from his book as he heard the surprisingly coherent voice of his comatose companion.

"I am sorry to have to contradict you but I do not believe we've ever met," he said calmly, shutting his book and looking over at her. He wondered who she had mistaken him for, then remembering that the untested drug may well have caused brain damage he wondered whether she'd been addressing him at all or was perhaps speaking to some hallucination that shared the room with them. He grimaced as he was forced to consider the possibility that he might spend the rest of his life locked up with a half-wit or raving lunatic.

"No," she agreed with a drowsy smile. "But I know who you are. Nikolas . . . Nikolas keeps a picture of you in his study. You're his uncle Stefan." Courtney frowned slightly brow creasing as she worked to bring her mind back into focus – something wasn't right with this situation. "You're dead," she remembered after a moment. She looked lost and frightened as she met Stefan's gaze, "Am I – am I dead, too?"

A slight smile touched Stefan's lips, as odd as the question normally might seem under the circumstances it proved that her wits were perfectly in order. "No," he said. "We are neither one of us dead, but welcome to hell anyway. I believe you've already met the devil – she likes to call herself Helena."

"Your mother?" Courtney fought to push herself up to a sitting position, surprised at how weak she was.

"To my eternal misfortune," he confirmed, moving to her side he helped Courtney prop herself up on her pillows.

END FLASHBACK

* * *

"Uh-huh," Luke muttered. "I'm sure it was the beginning a beautiful friendship."

He pulled a chair around so that he would be sitting just behind Stefan and to the side. He knew that it would unnerve Cassadine to have him sitting at his back, but that he wouldn't move because he'd want to stay between Luke and the girl.

"So," he said straddling the chair and propping his arms on the back to create a good chin rest. "I got a few more questions."

"I never doubted that you would." Stefan sighed but didn't turn away from the still form in the bed before him.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asked bluntly.

"Here?" Stefan repeated, more to irritate Spencer than from any need to clarify the question. "In Port Charles?" he asked deliberately misunderstanding. "I hope to reclaim my life."

"On my boat," Luke clarified, glaring at Stefan as he redirected him towards the real question. "Why come to me?"

"I told you. I knew you wouldn't betray us to Helena and that she would never think to look for us here." The explanation was plausible, but Luke didn't buy it for a moment.

"Nope," his response was immediate, he'd known this Cassadine long enough to know when there was something he wasn't saying. "That's not it. Why not go to Wyndemere? Nikky-boy finds out his beloved uncle's alive surely he'd welcome you with open arms. Unless," Luke tipped his chair forward leaning in so that he was speaking directly into Stefan's ear, "you don't trust the little prince?"

He paused but continued when Stefan said nothing. "You've been gone a long time. And you said that Nikolas didn't know but after awhile you gotta start to wonder. Maybe he did . . . hmm . . . maybe he knew you were alive and just didn't want you back."

"No!" The word practically forced itself out of Stefan's lips. He knew that Luke was baiting him, fishing for information, but he couldn't keep silent. "I know that Nikolas would not do such a thing. I trust him implicitly."

Luke settled back in his chair with a smirk, pleased to have gotten a rise out of the other man. But he wasn't quite done and something in Stefan's words had given it away.

"So it's the girl then," he concluded. "She doesn't trust Nikolas. He was her lover for awhile and that clearly didn't end so well for her. Now he's raising her son with Emily – the love of his life. It has to have occurred to her that life's a lot easier for him with her dead." There was just the vaguest hint of a tightening around Stefan's mouth that told Luke he'd hit his mark. "So she starts to wonder if maybe he wouldn't rather it stay that way. She doesn't want to go to Wyndemere because she doesn't trust Nikolas to help her."

"She's mistaken," Stefan whispered at last, confirming Luke's supposition. "Helena planted those doubts in her mind. She's confused, and Helena played on her fears. It's not true."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Luke taunted him. "Me or yourself?"

"I know Nikolas," Stefan repeated firmly. "He wouldn't have done this."

"But you came here instead of going to Wyndemere," Luke reminded him. "Gotta be a reason for that."

"Wrong or not, Courtney was afraid and I promised her that I wouldn't take her to Nikolas. She is ill and I saw no reason to upset her further." Stefan sighed recognizing that his rationalization sounded weak, he returned to his earlier justification, "This made a more logical first step in any case. Helena is surely looking for us and she'll be expecting us to go to Nikolas. Given our history, she will never think to look for us here."

"Can't argue that last part," Luke muttered. "I'm pretty surprised myself."

"That I would come to you, or that you would actually grant us sanctuary?" Stefan asked finally turning to face his old enemy.

"Both."

"Much as I hate the necessity, I," Stefan hesitated but forced himself to continue – circumstances being what they were he was in no position to hold onto his pride, "I am grateful for your help."

"I'm not helping you," Luke glared at him – that was going to be clear from the get go. "I just want the chance to throw a wrench into Helena's plans." He looked past Stefan at the bed, "And to help out the girl – not her fault she got twisted up in this. Well, not entirely her fault, I could've told her getting involved with a Cassadine was just asking for trouble but that doesn't matter. I'm not going to leave an innocent girl to get snatched back up by Helena."

Stefan smiled slightly, unsurprised by Spencer's disclaimer. "For whatever reason," he acknowledged.

"If it were just you, I'd throw you out in heartbeat, or kill you myself and save Helena the trouble," Luke swore.

"If I was alone I would never have come to you," Stefan agreed.

"Alright then," Luke said. "What's your plan?"

Stefan had had six years with no occupation other than the planning of his mother's destruction; Courtney's arrival and the actual details of their escape had necessitated some slight alterations but his basic plan was intact.

"Helena undoubtedly still hopes to recapture us before anyone finds out we are still alive. Therefore the first step in pulling her fangs will be to make our return public. As soon as Courtney is out of danger I will go to Nikolas – I do not wish him to learn of this from someone else. Courtney – she will probably wish to speak with her brother and father. After that I will make a public appearance. When I will announce to the world that I am alive, Helena will have to come for me."

"And?" Luke asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," Stefan's smile took on a decidedly vicious edge. "But I assure you that my mother will sincerely regret crossing me."

Luke sighed shaking his head. "That's the problem with you Cassadines. You always want to toy with your victims; you play these games when a bullet to the head would be so much simpler and more effective."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

"You look like hell," Luke commented as he stepped into the stateroom and observed Stefan still sitting by Courtney's bed. Robin and Patrick had come and gone, hooking the girl up to the IV that would pump her full of antibiotics and fluids to replenish all that those that her fever was burning away. Courtney had also been given a light sedative and seemed to be resting comfortably. "You should get some rest; there's another bed in the next room."

'Your concern is touching, Spencer," Stefan answered turning toward Luke with a sardonic smile. "But I can rest well enough here." His gaze returned to Courtney's sleeping form.

"No need for you to watch over her," Luke said. "Antibiotics are doing their job; the doctors said she's out of danger. You, on the other hand . . . look like you're going to collapse any minute."

When Stefan said nothing, refusing to even acknowledge his comments, Luke continued, "You won't be doing her any good if you drop from exhaustion. Get some sleep now so that by the time she wakes up you'll be able to help her."

"I promised that I wouldn't leave her. If she wakes up and I'm not with her she'll panic; she will believe that Helena has recaptured us," Stefan predicted.

Luke rolled his eyes. "She's not going to wake up anytime soon. Robin said the sedative would last at least twelve hours. Go grab a little shut eye and you'll be back before she wakes up." When Stefan made no move to get up he sighed. "Look, I'll stay with her until you get back," he offered at last. "She knows me – she'll know I ain't workin' for Helena. Not that she's gonna wake up and see me anyway," he muttered the last part.

Stefan met Luke's eyes, trying to gauge the other man's motive, his sincerity. He couldn't think of a reason for Spencer's offer. "Why do you care?" he asked suspiciously. "Why the sudden concern with my sleeping habits?"

"I ain't concerned about you," Luke denied immediately. "Just don't want you to drop dead before you do your job and lure Mommy out of hiding.

Stefan had no desire to accept Luke's offer – he didn't want to take anything from Luke beyond what was absolutely necessary and everything in him rebelled against the idea of leaving himself so defenseless in his enemy's home, but he knew that he needed rest. He hadn't slept more than four or five hours total over the last three days, unable to rest until he knew that he had them safely away from Helena and her prison. But the adrenaline rush that had given him the strength needed to get them to Port Charles was fading now that they had reached a place of relative safety, and the toll it had taken on his body was beginning to make itself known – if he didn't sleep soon he would probably pass out where he stood.

"You will stay with her?" he asked at last.

"If she wakes up, she won't be alone," Luke agreed.

Clenching his teeth against the pain that he knew would come, Stefan braced his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed himself to his feet. "Show me to a bed."

* * *

Luke woke up from a fitful slumber to find himself sitting in the chair with his head resting on the edge of Courtney's bed. Cracking a yawn he rubbed a hand across his tired eyes and tried to stretch out his back as he glanced at his watch. "Christ," he muttered wondering when the last time was that he had seen six o'clock in the morning. It had only been a couple of hours since he sent Cassadine to catch some sleep, if he was going to stay here with the girl until Vlad woke up he was either going to need a more comfortable place to rest or some serious caffeine. Glancing at the girl he confirmed that she was still out and got to his feet, stumbling from the room in search of coffee. 

A few minutes later . . .

Courtney woke up in an instant but gave no sign that she was conscious. Her eyes stayed closed and her breathing remained slow and steady as she listened for any sound that would indicate someone else was in the room. Hearing nothing, she opened her eyes cautiously and glanced around the room confirming that she was alone. After an initial surge of relief Courtney had to fight off a wave of fear – she was totally alone, and Stefan wouldn't have willingly left her. Swallowing hard to force back her panic she tried to sort through her memories, tried to remember what had happened.

* * *

Flashback 

"Courtney," Stefan's hand on her shoulder brought Courtney out of a fevered, restless sleep. "We're here," he whispered.

"Where's here?" she asked swinging her legs over the edge of her narrow cot and reaching underneath it to grab the small bag that held all of her possessions. They'd been traveling nonstop for the last two days and Courtney had given up on trying to keep track of their destinations, choosing to trust in the fact that Stefan would get them home.

"New York," a satisfied smile touched Stefan's lips for the first time since they'd started their journey. He'd managed to sneak them aboard the first plane in Lyon, since then it had been a succession of jets and bribes as they tried to make their way home and avoid Helena.

"We're home?" Courtney let Stefan pull her to her feet.

"Not yet, but we're close," he promised her. "We're in the city, it's only a couple of hours now and we'll be back in Port Charles." He held Courtney's eyes, "We have to be even more careful now; this leg of the trip is going to be the most dangerous. My mother is going to be watching for us to arrive in Port Charles – she can't afford for us to reach home."

"I know," Courtney agreed hiding a pained wince as the strap of her bag pressed down on her injured hand. She didn't want Stefan to know the wound had become infected, once they reached Port Charles would be soon enough to find a doctor – they couldn't afford to risk it before then.

End Flashback

* * *

The rest of Courtney's memories were vague, distorted by her sharply rising fever. She'd focused on keeping up with Stefan and trying to hide from him how sick she was. Certainly, none of her recollections matched up with her current circumstances. This was no place that she'd ever been in Port Charles that was for sure. 

Courtney's gaze landed on the IV pole beside the bed. A bag with clear fluid hung from it, the line running down the pole and into a vein on the back of her hand. Her fear stepped up a notch at that realization – she had no idea what drug they were giving her and this didn't look like any hospital room she had ever seen. The room was spacious with dark walls rather than the typical hospital white, there were no windows, one door and even from this distance she could make out the lock.

Taking a moment to force down a surge of nausea inducing fear Courtney registered another disturbing fact – the slight rocking of her bed along with the faint splashing she could hear suggested that she was on board a boat. They hadn't been traveling by boat – there would have been no reason to get on a boat unless . . . _Helena_, Courtney wanted to scream as the realization came to her, the only logical explanation. _Helena had caught up to them before they reached Port Charles and she was shipping them back to Europe._

Taking a shaky breath she pushed herself up ignoring the weakness in her limbs, for now she was alone and that was to her advantage – if she was going to escape it would have to be now before they discovered that she was awake and needed to be guarded. Then she could find Stefan and they would find away off this boat and back to Port Charles – they had come too far to give up now.

Courtney took a moment to study the IV. The line ran down to a needle that had been inserted into the back of her right hand and taped down. She peeled off the tape and grasped the needle and line in her left hand, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth to keep herself from crying out Courtney jerked the needle out of her hand and dropped it off the side of the bed. She shook a pillowcase off of one of the pillows and used it to staunch the flow of blood from the exposed puncture pressing hard for a moment before winding the cloth around her hand and preparing to climb out of the bed.

Clutching the side of the bed, Courtney stayed upright by sheer force of will as a wave of dizziness hit. Once she was steady on her feet she moved towards the dresser that had been anchored in the far corner of the room. If she was going to escape she needed to wear something a little more substantial than the thin nightgown that someone had dressed her in. She managed a wry smile at finding clean clothing sitting on top of the dresser – that was Helena, even in the midst of tormenting someone she made sure the social niceties were observed.

Dressing quickly Courtney kept her eyes on the door. It was probably locked, in which case her best chance would be to wait and surprise whoever was the first person to come check on her. If she could knock him out without alerting anyone else then she could slip away and find Stefan. She was just pulling on her shirt when the door opened.

"'Check on the girl,' he says," Robert muttered as stepped into the stateroom. "She's unconscious, why does anyone need to . . ." his words trail off as his gaze lands on the empty bed and then sweeps around the room finally locating Courtney in the shadows pressed against the far wall.

Trying not to spook her Robert kept his voice soft and his hands raised in a calming gesture when he addressed her. "You shouldn't be up and about," he said. "You're going to make yourself sick again if you don't take it easy."

"I'm fine," she lied, ignoring the lethargy that came from trying to throw off the lingering sedative. "Why do you care anyway? I make myself sick again and I won't be able to escape, seems like that would make your job easier."

"Hold on just a minute there," Robert objected. "There's no need to escape, you're not a prisoner here. This is just a layover, right? The two of you stopped here to gather your strength so you can go out and take back your lives or whatever."

"Is that what Helena told you?" Courtney laughed bitterly, "That she's keeping me here for my own good while I 'get better?' It's a lie. She's keeping me away from my family."

"Helena didn't tell me anything – I don't work for her," Robert protested. "I'm on your side here. I'm a friend. You and Cassadine showed up last night and we're just giving you shelter here, keeping you safe that's it."

"I don't believe you," Courtney spat as she started to edge around the room. She kept her back to the wall so that no one else could sneak up on her, but at the same time she tried to work her way around to the door or to something that she could use as a weapon. "Stefan wouldn't have left me here alone if he'd had a choice. He's not here, so clearly he didn't have a choice – that makes you **not a friend**."

"Stefan's just in the next room getting some sleep." The explanation was offered in an attempt to placate her as Robert turned keeping her in his sights. She might be small and sick, but she was also scared and if she tried to lash out at him he had to be prepared or she could hurt him and herself.

"'Getting some sleep?' What's that a euphemism for – did Helena kill him or did you drug him too?"

"Cassadine is fine," Robert repeated, "Still breathing and everything, just exhausted so he agreed to try to rest – we all thought that he would wake up before you did."

"Yeah, I heard you when you came in," Courtney assured him. "I'm supposed to still be unconscious, well I'm not – what are you going to do about it, drug me again, knock me out?"

By this time Courtney was only a few feet away from the door, but Robert was still blocking her exit. She knew that the odds were not in her favor if she tried to overpower him so she tried a different strategy – she let tears fill her eyes. "Please," she whispered, "just let me go. Helena never has to know it was you, just – just tell her that you came to check on me and I was gone. Please, I can't go back there – please just let me go."

"I'm not working for Helena!" Robert exclaimed, frustrated by the fact that she refused to listen to him and by the sudden totally unjustified surge of guilt he felt at her tears – he had to remind himself that he had done nothing to make her cry.

"So you'll let me go?" she dared him, not believing his protestations for a moment.

"Of course you can go, but I'm telling you it's not a very good idea. You've been really sick and if you head out there and start wandering around on your own Helena will find you in a heartbeat."

"So you're _not_ going to let me go?" Courtney concluded; the accusation clear in her voice.

Robert sighed shaking his head slightly as he gave up on trying to reason with her. "How about we just go next door? You can see for yourself that Cassadine's just fine and that neither of you are being held against your will. If you still want to leave after that then you're welcome to go." Robert suggested, hoping that Stefan would manage to talk some sense into her since she seemed bound and determined not to listen.

Not believing him for a moment, Courtney managed a tremulous smile. "You'd let me see him?"

Stepping away from the door Robert gestured her through. "Go right ahead," he offered. "Take a left in the hall and it's the first door on your left."

Courtney gauged the distance between him and the door – there was no way she could pass through the door without coming within arm's reach of him. "You go first," she insisted, not wanting to leave him at her back.

Forcing a smile Robert reminded himself that her paranoia was a perfectly rational response to two and a half years spent in Cassadine hands and turned to precede her out of the room. A flash a movement in his peripheral vision alerted Robert to Courtney's plan before she managed to hit him.

Ducking the blow he pivoted around to grab her arm and press her back into the wall. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded as he wrestled out of her hands the heavy statuette she picked up when she crept passed the bookcase.

This time the tears in Courtney's eyes weren't feigned as she fought against the man pinning her to the wall. "Let me go!" she demanded desperately. "Just let me go!"

"What in the hell is going on here?" a new voice demanded from the doorway. Luke took in the scene with a rueful grin remembering Stefan's warning and his own promise. "Well, damn," he muttered. "How was I to know she was going to wake up so soon?"

He met Robert's eyes and shook his head chidingly. "Robert, instead of standing there molesting that girl, why don't you go call Robin and tell her that her patient's awake," he suggested before focusing on Courtney. "And you. Glad to see you're awake. Do you know who I am?"

Courtney nodded hesitantly, "Luke Spencer," she whispered the name. Realizing that she had stopped fighting upon Luke's arrival Robert finally loosened his grip on her arms and stepped away from her.

"That's right," Luke agreed. "So you know you're safe now. Nothing to be scared of here, you're about as far from Helena's clutches as you can get."

Trembling with relief and the aftermath of her terror Courtney stepped away from the wall only to feel her knees buckle underneath her. Luke caught her just as she was about to hit the floor. "It's alright," he murmured, slipping an arm around her waist as he helped her stand. "You've been really sick, and now you're bleeding so back into bed with you and wait until the doctor gets here."

"Bleeding?" Courtney repeated before catching sight of her hand of the blood that smeared her hand. "That's just from the IV," she explained but she allowed him to assist her back to the bed nonetheless.

"Is Stefan really okay?" As soon as she was settled in the bed Courtney grabbed Luke's arm and asked the most important question. "I know you and he don't really get along, but he – he saved me and I really – I need him to be okay."

Luke winced as her question confirmed that yet another innocent woman had fallen under Stefan's spell, but trying to deprogram her now would only get her upset so he brushed off that concern for another time. "Oh, Stiffen's fine. He and I don't really see eye to eye on . . . well anything, but I'm not going to do anything about it while he's down. Once Helena's taken care of will be soon enough for him and I to start trying to kill each other again."

"Where is he?"

"Asleep – neither one of you was in great shape when you got here so he waited until you'd seen a doctor and were resting okay then he sacked out. If you promise to stay in bed, I'll go get him for you."

Courtney considered that offer for a moment – she desperately wanted to see Stefan, to know that he was here with her, that they were both safe, but . . . "No," she said at last. "Let him rest. I'm alright now, and he . . . he didn't get much while we were traveling. He was too busy taking care of me," she admitted.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

It was a testament to the depth of Stefan's exhaustion that he didn't wake the moment the door was opened and she was able to approach him unnoticed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Courtney rested a trembling hand on his bearded cheek and for the first time since regaining consciousness her sense of foreboding began to fade.

Stefan's eyes opened as soon as soon as she touched him, but he didn't pull away. "Αισθάνεστε καλύτερα;1" he smiled at her pushing himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at her.

"Είμαι άγρυπνος2," Courtney confirmed. "My fever's down but I'm still pretty wobbly. I'm not really supposed to be out of bed," she confessed, "but I needed to see you – I had to make sure you were okay."

"I am well, better now that I can see you are improving," Stefan declared. "Tired and Dr. Drake suspects that my ribs are bruised, but there is nothing really the matter with me."

"I shouldn't have woken you." Courtney's smile slipped away when he mentioned that he was tired.

"I have slept for long enough," he reassured her. "There are too many things that need to be done for me to waste time sleeping." Stefan took a moment to study her noticing the fatigue in her eyes and the hectic color returning to her cheeks. "You, however, should be resting; you're still sick and I don't want to see you collapse again." He pulled her down onto the bed beside him. "You can rest here while you tell me what has you so upset that you slipped out of your sickbed to come wake me," he commanded. "You're afraid of something, what is it?"

Leaning back against the headboard Courtney looked down at her hands, focusing on them in order to avoid Stefan's gaze. "I'm just being paranoid," she whispered. "I'm sure that there's nothing to worry about."

"But you are worried," Stefan countered. "Tell me what you fear."

Courtney hesitated a moment longer before succumbing to Stefan's concern. "Robin – Dr. Scorpio," she finally named the source of her fear.

"Dr. Scorpio?" Stefan repeated the name with some surprise. "She seemed competent enough. Has she said something to upset you? Did she – were there problems with your blood work?"

"It's not that," Courtney hastened to reassure him. "She hasn't gotten the results back yet." She paused again – she knew that he wouldn't be surprised by her fears, but they had discussed her suspicions more than once and she knew that Stefan didn't share them. "Robin is friends with Nikolas," she reminded him. "What if she tells him? What if he finds out I'm here?"

"What if he does?" Stefan repeated. "Even if he wished to harm you or send you back to Helena, and you know that I don't believe that, he would know that there could be no profit in it now. Spencer knows we are alive, and while he bears no great love for me he has been your brother's friend for many years. Were we to disappear again he would tell Corinthos what has happened." Seeing her skeptical look he continued, "I do not mean to imply that the threat is ended or that we are out of danger – my mother remains a very great danger – but she was only able to keep us hidden so easily because no one knew to look for us; that is no longer the case."

"But you are right," Stefan conceded at last. "Despite her promise to me, Dr. Scorpio may well feel the need to tell Nikolas of our . . . return, and I would prefer that he hear of it first from me. I must go to him before she has the chance."

* * *

Stefan watched from a distance as his nephew stepped off of the launch from Spoon Island – on his way to dinner with Emily, Stefan surmised. Savoring the sight that he had missed most over the last six and half years he stood unmoving until the younger man disappeared into a waiting car. Only once Nikolas had disappeared from view did Stefan retreat into the catacombs and through them down into the tunnels that would lead him beneath the lake and back to his old home.

Slipping through the secret tunnels under Wyndemere Stefan indulged in a smirk as he noticed the bricked up alcoves that had once been doors into the manor. Wanting to control unsolicited access to his home, and particularly to curtail Helena's access to the young prince, Nikolas had set a team of workers to close the tunnels. Since the labyrinth of tunnels ran both underneath the manor and through its walls demolishing them without destroying the structural integrity of the house would have been impossible. Instead Nikolas had settled for sending workers to comb the tunnels and brick up the entrances. Running a reverent hand down the stone wall of the tunnel Stefan heard the familiar click and felt the wall begin to move – fortunately Nikolas had never discovered the second set of passages.

The old house was so riddled with secret corridors that no one ever bothered to count up distances. No one until Stefan, that is. One of his first concerns upon acquiring the property for himself and Nikolas had been mapping the tunnels and memorizing their layout. It was only when he compared the map that he had created to the blueprints for the house that he noticed the empty spaces – spaces where there should have been tunnels and weren't. When he began to investigate further he discovered the tunnels within the tunnels. Those he had memorized but never written down, and when he later shared his map with Nikolas he never mentioned that it was incomplete. Stefan had counted on these passages, and their doors into the house, still being accessible – and for once it appeared as though he was in luck. Grimacing at the layers of cobwebs that confirmed this tunnel had not been used since his own departure, Stefan moved silently down the narrow corridor until it terminated in an apparent dead end. Triggering the hidden switch, Stefan stepped through the opening into a rarely used maid's room scarcely bigger than a closet.

As Stefan had expected this room remained unoccupied, permitting him to enter the house proper unobserved. Moving across the bare room he pressed an ear against the door and listened for any movement in the hallway. Hearing nothing he pushed the door opened and slipped down the hallway. Pausing outside of another door Stefan took a deep breath, he'd chosen that particular passageway not merely because it had the advantage of opening into an unused room but also for this reason – its proximity to the nursery.

Knowing that his nurse would be in the kitchen or her own rooms while the child slept, Stefan pushed the door opened and stepped into the dimly lit room. He sank to his knees beside the bed and looked down at the sleeping form of Nikolas's son – he'd seen the child only once before, almost a year ago.

"Hello there young one," not wishing to wake the child, Stefan kept his voice low. "You look very much like your father did at your age." Stefan gave Spencer's cheek a light, barely there, caress remembering the joys and trials of Nikolas's childhood. "I know that your life is about to get very complicated and some of the changes may upset you, but I want you to remember everyone in your family loves you and we're all going to do everything we can to protect you."

Stefan was about to leave the room when a silver frame on the nightstand by the bed caught his attention, picking up the picture he read the inscription, 'My Guardian Angel.' "You see," he told Courtney's image taking hope that his faith would be vindicated, "Nikolas has not tried to erase you from your son's life."

* * *

Still confined to her bed and starting to become restless Courtney was almost grateful for the interruption when she heard the raised voices in the hallway outside her door.

"You can't fool me, Luke," Tracy's voice was shrill with accusation as she tried to push past her husband toward the staterooms of the Haunted Star. "I know that you and that Australian James Bond wanna-be are up to something. Coming and going from this boat at all hours and you haven't been by the mansion in days – not even to see your daughter or take advantage of the free meals. Now I've been very patient, but I demand to know what, or **who**, you are hiding this time. "

"I would never hide anything from you, my precious poppet," Luke protested.

"Of course you would," Tracy's eyes narrowed. "If there's money in it I want my cut, if you're going to get yourself arrested again I want to know how much the bail is going to cost me, and if you've taken up with yet another cheap tart I want the pleasure of throwing her out myself. Either way I'm going to find out what's going on."

"Spankybuns, you wound me! I don't know where this lack of trust comes from – I would never try to cheat you and what would I want with another woman when I have my own bodacious bride waiting for me at home."

"Oh please! This would hardly be the first time since our marriage that you took up with some floozy."

Clutching the door frame to stay upright Courtney hesitated on the other side of the closed door unsure whether or not she should interrupt the argument. She didn't want to cause trouble for Luke, and she wasn't sure whether discovering her would ameliorate Tracy's ire or exacerbate it. In the end she chose to wait and listen, if Tracy found her or Luke decided to reveal her then so be it, if not then she would remain hidden for a while longer.

Back out in the hall Luke stepped in front of Tracy and blocked her path to the staterooms. "Alright love muffin, I'll tell you the truth," Luke announced magnanimously. "Yes, I'm letting a couple of people hide out here for a few days. I would invite you in to chat with them but they're trying to keep a low profile and the girl's feeling poorly so it would be better if we just let them rest."

"I don't think so, I'm not going anywhere without meeting your **guests**," Tracy spit out the last word contemptuously.

"This doesn't really doesn't concern you darlin'," Luke's tone was firm as he contradicted her. "I'm not making any money off of the gig and no one's offering any other form of compensation either; all they want is to be left alone until they get things settled and I promised that, so you're not going in there."

"You expect me to believe that you're sheltering some poor refugees out of the goodness of your heart?" Tracy sneered. "I know you better than that – if you're helping someone then you're planning to get something out of it and I want to know what that is."

"Just the pure pleasure of screwing over an old enemy," Luke smiled.

Seeing Luke's normally jovial countenance set in implacable lines Tracy temporarily gave in to him, privately vowing to return later and discover what her husband was hiding she sent him one last icy glare before returning to the main salon.

As soon as Tracy had disappeared from view Luke knocked gently on the stateroom door and then pushed it opened. "Hey there sunshine," he greeted the pale blonde who was still holding onto the door jam as though her life depended on it. "How many times do we have to remind you to stay in bed?" he scolded her. "You need to conserve your strength for getting better."

"She sounded upset," Courtney observed as Luke helped her back to the bed.

"Upset is Tracy's normal state of being, our little squabbles are nothing for you to get worked up over.

"Looks like you're all alone in here," Luke commented as he looked around the empty room. "Please tell me the overgrown bat's winging his way across the night sky and home to Spook Island."

"Stefan went to see Nikolas," Courtney affirmed smiling in spite of herself as Luke's characterizations provided a momentary distraction from the nervous tension Stefan's visit to Nikolas was causing. "He didn't want Nikolas to find out that we were alive from someone else."

"So he left you all on your lonesome while he goes to announce your resurrection?" Luke grinned, "Well, never fear darlin' it will be my pleasure to keep you company while he's gone."

"I really am alright on my own," Courtney assured him. "Don't let me keep you away from your work."

"Work?" Luke shuddered theatrically. "Never touch the stuff, I'll take any excuse to avoid that, and my partner can glad-hand the high rollers just fine on his own for awhile, so don't you worry about me."

Luke took a second to study Courtney critically. "How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment. "You're still looking a little pale, should I call Dr. Robin back to take a look at you?"

"No," Courtney answered quickly, she'd only been conscious for one doctor's visit but she was already tired of being poked and prodded, and even more tired of Robin's sympathetic looks and intrusive questions. "I'm alright, and I promise to stay in bed."

"See that you do," Luke grumbled. "And no passing out on me, if you think you're getting sick again let me know and I'll call the doctor back."

"Alright," Courtney lied agreeably as she sank back into the pillows.

"If Vlad's gone to talk to Bat Jr., he's probably going to be gone for awhile. Is there anybody you want me to call for you?" Luke changed the subject after a moment. "Invite them to your 'hey I'm not dead anymore' party? Always a fun shindig; more fun when the guest of honor isn't a Cassadine of course, but at least this time he's sharing the spotlight with a beautiful woman."

Conflicted, Courtney hesitated – of course she wanted to see her family again, but "We're trying to keep a low profile here," she reminded Luke. "Helena's bound to be watching my family, if they start trooping in here she's probably going to come to check out why."

"You forget how much more clever I am than Helena," Luke chided her. "This boat is a casino and your brother, one of my oldest friends, stops by on a regular basis – Helena's not going to see anything out of the ordinary in his coming here. So if you want to see him, I can arrange it without any risks to the plan."

"No," Courtney said at last, "I'm not . . . I can't see Sonny yet, I need – I need a little more time," twisting the soft cotton blanket in her hands Courtney struggled to retain her composure. She loved her brother and she'd missed him, but the year or so before her 'death' had been a difficult time in their relationship and, while Courtney had long since forgiven Sonny, she didn't yet feel up to a confronting him on her own. Cowardly or not, she wanted Stefan with her when she saw her brother again – she knew that she wouldn't need him, but she took comfort in knowing he was there to lean on.

Not calling Sonny up right away went against every instinct that Luke had – he'd spent his life looking out for Barbara Jean and if the situations had been reversed he'd have wanted Sonny to call him – hell, when it had been Lesley Lu Sonny had called him despite his promise to the contrary. Seeing how upset Courtney was becoming, however, and knowing that she was still sick, he decided to let the matter drop, for now. "Okay," he said, "Sonny can wait a little longer."

"What about Carly?" Courtney asked hopefully. "Could you get her here with raising Helena's suspicions?" Sonny would be too much for her to handle now, but Carly was her best friend and would know how to help her face her brother.

"My wayward niece?" Luke's curled lip conveyed his distaste. "Ah, that's right the two of you were close, weren't you? I think I can get her here without raising too many eyebrows."

* * *

"An early evening, sir," Alfred commented as he took Nikolas's coat. "Was the restaurant not to your satisfaction?"

"The restaurant was fine," Nikolas answered. "Emily was called back to the hospital and I have some business calls to make," Nikolas paused outside the door to his study turning back towards Alfred. "Is my son already asleep?"

"Nearly an hour ago, sir," Alfred confirmed. "The nanny put him down early, she indicated that he was tired out by your visit to the park this afternoon."

"I'll just look in on him later then, when I go up to bed," Nikolas couldn't quite hide his regret at missing the chance to bid his son goodnight.

"Shall I bring you some tea, sir?"

"Please," Nikolas sighed. "It's likely to be a rather late night," he muttered as he opened the study door.

Whatever business Nikolas had expected to disrupt his sleep was forgotten when he stepped into the study and found it already occupied. "I –" he found himself at a loss for words as he stared at Stefan in shock. "Uncle?" One word finally escaped his lips.

"Nikolas." Stefan was sitting behind his desk, Nikolas's desk now, but the position was so familiar between them that Nikolas was immediately cast back into the past when this was Stefan's study and he would come in and find Stefan sitting in just that position.

Stefan rose to his feet behind the desk, resting his hands on the familiar smooth surface as he faced his nephew. "It warms my heart to see you again," he confessed simply.

"Who are you?" Nikolas advanced into the room and confronted the man who wore his uncle's face. "Stefan Cassadine died five years ago. I don't know what you hope to accomplish by coming here, by playing this game, but I'm not going to be taken in by it." His anger building as the words spilled out Nikolas's voice was shaking with barely suppressed rage as he repeated his initial question, "Who are you?"

"You know who I am Nikolas," Stefan answered quietly. "At least, I used to think you did," the last was barely audible and Stefan couldn't quite hide the hurt that colored his words.

"My uncle is dead," Nikolas repeated holding on to his anger to protect him from the impostor's tricks. "He is buried here – on this island, shall I show you his grave?"

"Look at me, Nikolas," Stefan commanded. "See me. I am here; I am real; the man you buried in that grave was not your uncle – he was not me."

"I don't understand," Nikolas said at last, studying the man before him there was no denying that his resemblance to Stefan Cassadine was uncanny, and yet Nikolas had seen Stefan buried, had grieved for his uncle despite the bitterness between them that had preceded his death.

"I know," Stefan answered approaching Nikolas slowly. "I will explain everything, but I am alive and I am home now."

Nikolas trembled as he felt the familiar weight of his uncle's hand on the back of his neck. This simple gesture conveyed a greater depth of affection between them than most would ever comprehend and in that moment he knew that this was Stefan. "Uncle," the appellation was practically a sob as he collapsed into Stefan's arms.

"Nikolas, my boy," Stefan's words were muffled against Nikolas's hair as he held the younger man close. "I missed you. God, I've missed you so," he murmured.

A/N: If the Greek is inaccurate, please forgive me – I don't speak Greek myself and had to use one of those translation websites. As for Courtney speaking Greek – it'll be explained eventually.

And don't forget to let me know what you think – I've gotten some excellent feedback and I greatly appreciate it.

1 Αισθάνεστε καλύτερα; - you are feeling better?

2 Είμαι άγρυπνος - I'm awake


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter was a bit harder to write than I expected it to be – blame Nikolas, I do. This chapter will be the first of several that concentrate on the reunions between Nikolas and Stefan and Courtney and Carly. I'm hoping to flesh out a lot of the back story in Stefan and Courtney's explanations for what went on.

I should have the next chapter up soon, but after that things will be a bit hectic for the next few weeks so I don't know when the chapter after that will be up, though it shouldn't be quite so long as this last delay. As always much love and many thanks to those who take the time to review, you don't know how much I appreciate the feedback.

**Chapter Six**

_**The Haunted Star**_

"You **summoned** me?"

Rather than standing up to greet his niece, Luke leaned further back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table in front of him. "Took your sweet time getting here," he commented taking another sip of his scotch and watching the anger flare in Carly's eyes.

"It's almost midnight, Luke," Carly answered glaring at him with her hands on her hips. "I've got two kids at home; I don't like being called out here in the middle of the night because you've got some kind of bug up your butt, now how about you tell me what you want so that I can say no and go home."

"Sweet Caroline, is that any way to talk to your favorite uncle? I'm trying to do you a favor here," Luke said offering her a benign smile.

"You're my only uncle and I don't want any favors from you. Favors from you always come with strings attached," Carly retorted smartly, not taken in for a moment by Luke's innocent expression – he wouldn't have called her unless he wanted something.

"So cynical Caroline," Luke chided her continuing to smile as though he hadn't a care in the world. "Can't I ever just do something for you out of the goodness of my heart?"

"No." Carly's response was immediate and definite. "I've known you for a long time now Luke and you've never done anything out of the goodness of your heart, at least not for me." Suddenly bored with their game, Carly decided to drop the banter and get down to business. "What do you want, Luke?" she repeated the question, her voice flat and cold.

For a moment Luke didn't say anything, his gaze wandering to the man standing just behind Carly with his arms crossed over his chest and an impatient look on his face. "Don't recall asking you to bring a guest," he said at last his eyes never leaving Jax even though his words were addressed to Carly. "In fact, I seem to remember telling you to come alone. You can go, Jax. This doesn't concern you."

"I don't take orders from you," Carly answered sharply at the same time Jax cut in with his own response.

"I'm Carly's husband, Luke," he reminded the older man; his easy smile was a natural counterpoint to Carly's flashing eyes but there was a hint of steel in his voice – he had long since grown tired of having his role in Carly's life discounted by her family. "If it concerns her, it concerns me."

"That's a beautiful sentiment." Luke smirked at the couple. "And I'm sure that Caroline's just eating it up, but this _really_ isn't your business. Now here's how this is going to work." Setting his drink down Luke got to his feet at last. "You," he said pointing at Jax, "are going to stay here. And you," he transferred his attention to Carly, "are going to come with me. There's something you need to see, and sorry but hubby there isn't invited."

"Jax and I don't keep secrets from each other."

"Well that's good, Caroline, certainly turning over a new leaf for you, and I've always heard honesty was the key to a healthy marriage. But Jax and **I** aren't married so I'm not obliged to tell him anything. And if you want me to tell you, and you** do **want me to tell you, he's going to have to stay here while you come with me."

"What's this all about Luke?" Carly was too used to Luke's high-handed style, had in fact been threatened and manipulated by him too many times, to bother being irritated or unnerved by it, but she was unwillingly intrigued. Whatever his faults, Luke never failed to deliver as promised and if he said that she wanted to know . . .

Luke started toward the door, pausing when he was only a hair's breath away from Carly so that he could speak right into her ear. "You're going to have to see this to believe it," he whispered. "But it'll be worth it."

"And I can't tell Jax?" Carly hesitated, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist finding out what Luke was offering, but not yet willing to give up the fight.

"I can't control what you tell your husband, Caroline, once you know, the choice is yours. Though after I tell you what's going on, I hope you'll think very hard before you do say anything."

* * *

**Wyndemere**

"Uncle," Nikolas whispered as he felt the familiar arms wrap around him and he finally allowed himself to accept that what he was seeing was real. Pressing his face against Stefan's shoulder Nikolas inhaled the familiar, indescribable scent that was peculiarly Stefan and it triggered a thousand half-forgotten memories – memories of all the times when Stefan had held and comforted him. For so much of his life Stefan had been his anchor, his one constant source of love and support.

He didn't know how Stefan had come to be here after all this time – how Stefan was even alive, nor had he forgotten the vicious fighting that had preceded Stefan's supposed death, guilty thoughts of Emily tried to intrude but in this moment Nikolas could do no more than be grateful that somehow Stefan was here, his uncle was alive.

"I don't . . ." Drawing away from Stefan Nikolas looked at him and tried to speak. "Uncle, I don't understand. Where have you . . . what happened . . . how . . ." There were too many questions for Nikolas to coherently give voice to any of them so he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. Still unsure that he could trust what he was seeing, he laid a trembling hand on his uncle's bearded cheek and waited to see if the apparition would dissolve into smoke. "You're alive?" Hope and confusion colored Nikolas's voice as he finally voiced the most important question.

"I am alive," Stefan repeated the assurance as the ghost of smile graced his face. He brought his own hand up, and mirroring Nikolas's movement, cupped his nephew's cheek. "And I have missed you." The simple words couldn't even begin to describe the void Nikolas's absence had left in his life. For more than six years Stefan had seen his nephew only in pictures – the occasional photograph in the society pages of the newspaper and the pictures and videos that Helena had regularly delivered to ensure that he and Courtney would never forget all that they were missing.

"Looking at you," Stefan took a moment to absorb all of the subtle changes that the years had wrought in Nikolas. His face – the line of his jaw, his cheekbones, his eyes – he was the same, and yet different – he was in some indefinable way stronger than he had been, more mature. "It seems my . . . my Nikolas has become a man while I was away. You look well, Nikolas."

"I am well," Nikolas agreed, tears filling his eyes as he heard the words Stefan didn't say - _my son_. No matter what the DNA tests had said in Nikolas's heart Stefan would always be his father. "Better now that you're alive. I missed you, too," he admitted as the tears slid down his cheeks to be caught by Stefan's hand, "more than words can say."

Drawing in a shaky breath Nikolas let his eyes linger on that well loved face, its lines and expressions burned into his memory through years of love and care – years of familiarity which allowed him to recognize with growing concern the changes in his uncle, Stefan was thinner than Nikolas remembered and much too pale. And he knew that the tight lines at the corners of Stefan's mouth were not signs of age but rather indicative of carefully hidden pain.

"Uncle," Nikolas's sudden distress was palpable, "you're not well." He pulled Stefan to the nearest chair urging him to sit down. "Tell me how you are hurt. Allow me to summon a doctor for you." The questions stumbled forth urgently as Nikolas confronted the idea of losing Stefan again before he had the chance to appreciate all that he had regained. He didn't wait for a response from Stefan before reaching for a phone.

Stilling Nikolas's hands by catching them in his own, Stefan's voice was quietly reassuring. "There is no need to worry over me, Nikolas. Yes, I suffered some minor injuries recently but I have seen a doctor already, and I am assured that I should recover quickly."

"What sort of minor injuries?" Nikolas demanded refusing to be appeased by his uncle's nonchalant attitude. He knew Stefan well enough to know that he was adept at hiding any small discomfort; if Nikolas could so easily read the signs of pain in his uncle's countenance then he was hurting badly.

"None that need concern you," Stefan began but, recognizing the stubborn set of Nikolas's jaw and the intent look in his eyes, he shook his head and sighed in defeat. "Bruises and abrasions for the most part, perhaps a fractured rib or two," he admitted at last. "Truly, fatigue seems to be my most serious malady, it was an arduous journey, but I could not rest any longer until I had seen you." When Nikolas's eyes widened at the admission that he might have suffered broken ribs Stefan tightened his grip on the younger man's hands. "I will heal, Nikolas," he reassured him. "I will be fine."

The warmth, the calm assurance in Stefan's tone eased Nikolas's fears as it always had, but the tension remained as he tried to piece together an explanation for Stefan's presence, for Stefan's very existence.

"Tell me what happened," Nikolas requested at last. "I want to know, I need to know everything. How you came to be injured, how you got here, where you . . ." his voice trembled slightly as he continued, "where you've been for the last five years."

When Stefan hesitated a moment too long before answering Nikolas was thrown back in time to Stefan's last 'resurrection' – a cruel ploy that had left them estranged for far too long. A sudden surge of anger brought him to his feet and sent him pacing away from Stefan as he was confronted the possibility of yet another betrayal. "God, uncle, where were you? Do you know? Do you know how much I needed you? I thought you were dead – how could you leave me to grieve for you, let me believe **again** that you were dead?" Nikolas clenched his fists at his sides, resisting the impulse to pound them against his uncle's chest as he had during childhood temper tantrums, tantrums during which his uncle's calm strength and acceptance had been the only the thing that soothed him.

"Do you think that staying away was my own choice?" Stefan answered quietly, his own bitterness rising in response to Nikolas's angry accusation. "Do you imagine there is anything I would not have done to be by your side when you needed me?"

Stefan's bitterness caught Nikolas off guard. "Then why weren't you?" he asked. "Where were you that you couldn't come back?"

'Where was I?' All the possible answers to the question sped through Stefan's mind – everything from a bitter truth – 'I was in hell' to other more creative interpretations. "I was in France, a villa outside Avignon," he said at last choosing to begin with a literal interpretation. Knowing that his mere location did not even begin to provide Nikolas with the explanation he was seeking Stefan continued. "Your grandmother arranged for my . . . lodging. My accommodations were very . . . secure."

"So, Helena faked your death?" Nikolas interpreted with some relief – that was an explanation he could live with, he could believe such a thing of his grandmother and it would be far easier to bear than the idea that Stefan would willingly put him through that loss again.

"No." Stefan's denial had Nikolas swinging back towards him with a betrayed look. "Mother orchestrated my abduction and someone else's very real death up on that cliff. Someone did die that day Nikolas, but it was not me."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say, Uncle," Nikolas protested. "Did Helena fake your death or not?"

"Yes," Stefan replied pressing the tips of his fingers against his temple as he tried to push down a building headache, "and no. The matter is more complicated than you realize."

Stefan indicated that Nikolas should take the chair opposite his own and waited for him to sit before starting the story that he had told Luke Spencer the day before. "I was in Milan," he began simply.

"That was more than six years ago, Uncle," Nikolas interrupted, his voice colored by no small degree of frustration – he'd been hoping for something about the time since Stefan's death.

"I beg your pardon, Nikolas," Stefan's tone was cool, "I was under the impression that you wished to know what happened. The story begins in Milan." He waited a beat before asking, "Shall I continue?"

Nikolas inclined his head with a tight smile and refrained from speaking, he should have remembered this about Stefan, his uncle would offer explanations in his own way and his own time and did not care for interruptions.

"Very well. I was in Milan," Stefan repeated deliberately, "when Helena came to see me."

**Flashback**

_Stefan was seated at an outdoor café with a cup of tea and book in hand enjoying the luxury of a day in which he had no obligations other than to his own satisfaction when he sensed her approach. Helena did not need to announce her presence, the icy sensation of her disdain preceded her as she approached her younger son and took possession of the unoccupied chair across from his._

"_I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you, Mother, but truthfully I would be more pleased if you were still in prison where you belong or better that monastery in the Arctic that Spencer found for you." Stefan put down his tea as he regarded his mother with resignation. He would hear her out before having her removed. _

"_I am here for Nikolas." Helena ignored her son's attempt at humor. "No lesser concern could bring me to you."_

"_Nikolas is doing well, mother," Stefan assured her. "I only just had a letter from him; he indicated that he is enjoying the challenge of managing his inheritance."_

"_Nikolas is without an heir," Helena countered. "It is past time he did his duty to his family by assuring the succession. He must marry and produce a child so that the Cassadine legacy may continue."_

"_He is young and healthy; there is plenty of time yet for him to marry."_

"_Even the young and healthy can meet with tragedy. Look at my precious Stavros, cut down in the prime of his life – murdered by Luke Spencer." _

"_Two times, no less." Stefan murmured smirking as he lifted his teacup. "You needn't worry about Nikolas; Luke has no ill intentions towards him and he does not seek out trouble the way his father did. There is no reason he should not survive long enough to experience the joys of fatherhood, when he's ready."_

"_When he's ready," Helena sneered at him as she repeated the words. "This is precisely the problem, Stefan. You've coddled the boy for far too long, made him as weak and pathetic as you, and now he forgets his obligation to the Cassadine name. He is the prince, and there must be an heir. You will remind him of his duty."_

"_I will do no such thing." Stefan's eyes narrowed as he considered his mother. "And neither will you. Nikolas will live his own life as he chooses and you will stay out of it."_

_Helena continued as if Stefan had not spoken. "I have already selected the woman he is to wed. Her name is Lydia; her grandfather, Anton Karenin, I'm sure you remember him, supports the match as well and has agreed to leave his entire fortune to Nikolas provided he weds Lydia and produces a child with her. It will increase the power of the Estate and her bloodline is good enough, not quite up to our standards of course, but these days whose is?"_

"_Mother," Stefan cut off Helena's monologue with a sharp word. "You will cease your manipulations in Nikolas's life." Stefan was bitterly aware of the irony in his instruction, there was a time when he had manipulated Nikolas's life with just as free a hand – though always with better intentions. "And I will certainly have no part in them." _

_Laying his napkin on the table and picking up his discarded book Stefan rose to his feet. "You may be assured that I will notify Nikolas of your plans and warn him to be on his guard. Good day, Mother."_

"_I was afraid you were going to be difficult about this, Stefan." Helena let out a long suffering sigh as she looked up at him. "I did not wish to do it this way, but really you leave me no choice."_

End Flashback

"The next thing I recall I was waking up in the villa that was my prison until just a few days ago," Stefan concluded.

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't remember what happened five years ago?" Nikolas started up out of his chair, checking his movement, though not his words at his uncle's sharp look. "You don't remember forcing me to marry Lydia, trying to kill Emily, **framing Luke Spencer for your murder**?"

"I am not saying that I don't remember it. I am telling you that it did not happen – I did none of those things. This is the first time I've been in Port Charles since I went to Milan."

Nikolas shook his head in disbelief as he heard Stefan's so called explanation. "Do you mean to suggest that miserable visit, the one where **you died**, was all the product of my imagination? Oh no, not just **my** imagination, so it must have been some sort of mass hallucination – all of Port Charles was participating in some sort of shared delusion for months." Nikolas laughed cynically. "Try again, Uncle."

"Do not mock me, Nikolas," Stefan's voice was cold. "And do me the courtesy of listening to me without interruption. After you have heard what I have to say you may disbelieve me if you so choose, but at least hear me out."

"I said that I did not come to Port Charles that year, I did not say that nothing happened here. There was someone . . ."

Flashback

_It was nearly a month before Stefan saw Helena again. He had learned from the servants that he was in France. The view from his window assured Stefan that this was none of the Cassadine properties with which he was familiar, Helena must have acquired it separate from the Estate; Stefan knew that could mean only one thing – whatever she was doing here she wished to be sure Nikolas and Alexis couldn't find him._

_Everyday he demanded to see Helena, and every day the servants assured him that 'Madame Cassadine was very busy; Madame Cassadine would see him when she was ready.' _

_When Helena finally did grace him with her presence Stefan greeted her coolly. "I don't know what you hope to gain by keeping me prisoner, Mother, certainly it cannot be my cooperation." _

"_No, Stefan," Helena agreed. "You made it perfectly clear that you were not interested in cooperating with me, so I have decided to pursue another course."_

"_A course that requires keeping me prisoner?" Stefan asked. "If you mean to hold me hostage to Nikolas's compliance, you misjudge him. He will not allow you to control his life."_

"_No, that is an honor he reserves for you, or perhaps you reserve it for yourself," Helena hissed the accusation at her son. "I do not imagine that I can manipulate Nikolas as effectively as you do Stefan, and tell yourself what you will, you have sought to control Nikolas just as surely as I have since the moment of his birth."_

"_I have no intention of increasing your importance in Nikolas's life by holding you hostage, testing his love for you against his desire for freedom. No, Nikolas will never know that I have you."_

"_What is your plan then, Mother?" Stefan asked, stepping away from her to look back out the window – she would not see that her barbs had struck their mark. "Remove me from the equation entirely and hope that without my support Nikolas will cave to your will, he is stronger than that."_

"_In any case, when he does not hear from me, Nikolas will become suspicious. He will search for me, and you," Stefan turned back towards his mother, "will be his first suspect." _

"_Oh Stefan, my poor, foolish son," Helena laughed as she considered Stefan. "Do not pin your hopes on Nikolas to find you; he will never know you are missing. You see, you will be right there by his side, guiding him, as you always have, in the proper direction during the crisis that he is about to face."_

_The door behind Helena opened at her words and Stefan stared at the new arrival in horror – he was of average height with light hair and green eyes and his face . . . _

"_My God, Mother, what have you done?"_

"_Who is this?"_

"_Why he's you, my son." Helena's smile had a malicious edge to it as she rested her hand on the shoulder of her new 'son.' "I think the plastic surgeon did an admirable job, don't you? Though truly, how difficult can your face have been to duplicate? You features are so very pedestrian."_

End Flashback

"I told her that her ruse would never work." Stefan's voice carried more than a trace of the lingering bitterness his memories brought on. "That you and Alexis knew me better than that, that you would not believe it. But you did, you accepted him as me. Time passed, Helena's pawn spun more and more out of control and I watched from my prison and waited for one of you to object, for one of you to say that he couldn't possibly be me, that I wasn't a monster. But you did not. And while I waited for one of you to search for me, you buried him under my name, and forgot me."

Stefan looked over at his nephew, his eyes dark with the intensity of his emotions. "Tell me something, Nikolas. When he died, did you mourn for me, or were you simply glad to be rid of the monster you believed me to be?"

"I grieved," Nikolas whispered even as he flushed guiltily at the all-to-accurate charge. A part of him had been relieved at 'Stefan's' death, the man he'd buried that day had become like a stranger to him – now he knew why.

Stefan's story was outrageous, unbelievable, but Nikolas found himself believing it nonetheless. It was in truth no more outrageous than Stavros's resurrection from cryogenic deep freeze, no more unbelievable than Helena's surviving the 'fall' which landed Nikolas in prison. And the proof of this impossibility was sitting right there looking back at him, eyes filled with palpable anger and a wealth of pain and regret.

"I did grieve for you," he repeated. "And I didn't understand how you – he – could have changed so much from the man I remembered, the uncle I loved, but I never realized . . ." Nikolas slumped down into his chair. "I don't know what to say. I don't know how to apologize to you. I should have . . . I should have known there was something wrong, known that you wouldn't . . ." His words trailed off as he met Stefan's gaze with a silent entreaty, a plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for absolution. He needed more than anything else for Stefan to tell him that it was alright, that all was forgiven.

Stefan sat frozen in place as he wrestled with his own demons. He wanted to go to Nikolas, to comfort him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but Nikolas's lack of faith in him, his blind acceptance of Helena's pawn had haunted him for years. Stefan hung his head pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes – he'd had six years to come to terms with what had happened and he'd really believed that when he left that villa in France he'd left his anger behind, but it had all come surging back as he'd told Nikolas the story.

Sitting there across from his nephew Stefan remembered his earlier conversation with Luke, he'd claimed that he trusted Nikolas implicitly – they'd both known it was a lie. He trusted that Nikolas knew nothing of his abduction and incarceration, but he could no longer trust Nikolas's judgment as he once had.

"He must have been very convincing," Stefan said at last, the words as close as he could yet come to pardoning Nikolas. "Helena trained him well, so how could you have known?"

'How could you not have known?' The question screamed inside his head.

"How could I not have known?" Nikolas unknowingly echoed his uncle's thoughts. "You were always ruthless in the name of my best interest, but you were never cruel. And you never set out to deliberately hurt me, as he did when he ordered Emily's death. I should have suspected something."

'Yes, you should,' the thought crossed Stefan's mind but did not pass his lips. He would not heap more guilt on his nephew's head.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_**The Haunted Star**_

"Oh my God," Carly whispered. She'd been walking quickly, anything to cut down on the amount of time she spent with Luke, but when she opened the door of the stateroom and saw the woman sleeping inside she came to an abrupt stop. "Oh my God," she repeated. "That looks like . . ."

"Courtney Matthews?" Luke filled in, "It is." He pushed Carly into the room and closed the door behind them, no sense running the risk that a curious stranger, or Jax, might come down the hall and see her. "She showed up last night. Pretty poor shape but Dr. Robin says she should make a full recovery."

Carly heard what Luke was saying, but the words didn't make any sense to her, she was still caught on the impossibility of what she was seeing. "But Courtney's dead," she finally protested.

"Looks like not so much. She's breathing, got a pulse and everything." Knowing the company she'd been keeping Luke had checked that one himself, you never knew with the vampires.

"But I saw her – Sonny and I – we went to say goodbye, there was a memorial service, Nikolas had her body cremated," Carly remembered all of the ways that Courtney's death had been irrefutably proven.

"That last one's your clue," Luke smirked. "Nikolas – Nikolas _Cassadine_. I could have told her getting involved with that family would be hazardous to her health. No good ever came of sharing a bed with a Cassadine." He nodded towards Courtney, "Looks like your friend found that out the hard way."

"You're saying Nikolas did this to her," Carly sputtered. "I find that a little hard to believe. I mean the guy's a little overbearing sure, but he's not . . . he wouldn't do something like this."

"He's a Cassadine," Luke reminded her letting that sink in for a moment. Carly may not have been around for most of it, but she was still a Spencer by blood and Luke figured that the Spencers' distrust for the Cassadines ought to transmit itself at a bone deep level. "But no," he conceded after a minute, "it's not so much that Prince Nikky did this, as that this is the natural consequence of her getting involved with him."

"Think Caroline," he whispered the words over Carly's shoulder as she watched Courtney sleep. "Abduct a young girl, hold her prisoner in some remote location, leave her family thinking she's dead, you've heard this story before."

"Helena." Carly knew the story of Laura's abduction, of Lucky's too. "But why?"

After only a moment's thought Carly was able to answer her own question, "The baby – Nikolas and Courtney's baby."

"The Cassadine heir," Luke confirmed with a nod. "Seems Helena knew all along Jax wasn't the father. She played along with his DNA deception for reasons of her own then she took Courtney after the baby was born."

"The girl's back now though and the games are about to begin."

"What do you mean?" Carly turned on Luke with a suspicious glare. "If you're planning to use Courtney in your interminable war with Helena . . ." she left the threat hanging, knowing all to well Luke's tendency to ignore the potential fallout of his scams.

"I'm not planning anything," Luke denied quickly with an innocent smile. "I'm just a port in the storm, offering shelter to a damsel in distress."

"Can it, Luke," Carly ordered. "Why did you call me, anyway? She should be in a hospital and somebody needs to tell Sonny."

"I don't know, she was pretty clear on the 'don't tell Sonny' front. I believe her exact words were, 'Please, don't call Sonny.' I called you because she asked for you, and if you hadn't taken so long to get here she'd probably have been awake to greet you. Now you're gonna have to wake her up."

Luke's hand landed heavily on Carly's shoulder. "I don't know what all she's been through, but by the looks of her it hasn't been sunshine and roses, so take it easy on her, go slow. And remember that she isn't ready for anyone to know that she's here, respect that." The sudden wave of seriousness evaporated. "I'll leave you two to catch up," Luke announced cheerfully, "I'm going to find a drink."

Carly waited until the door had closed behind Luke before going to sit on the edge of Courtney's bed and shaking her gently to wake her. For a moment, the sudden tension in her body was the only sign that Courtney was awake, but a beat later her eyes opened and she looked at her assailant.

"Carly?" she mouthed the name in disbelief, her breath hitching in a sudden stifled sob as she looked up at her best friend.

"Hey," Carly whispered, tears filling her eyes. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

His hand trembled slightly on the decanter, but Nikolas didn't spill a drop as he poured generous servings of brandy for both himself and Stefan. He came back to the chairs and offered Stefan a glass before retaking his seat. He took a quick swallow wishing it was something stronger – though the way this night was going perhaps it was best he didn't have anything stronger on hand.

"Who was he?" Nikolas asked, breaking the lengthy silence that had fallen between them.

"I never knew," Stefan admitted staring into the amber liquid and trying to force back his anger as he followed Nikolas's lead into a topic that was less fraught with emotion. "He was no one, a pawn for Helena, 'a man of good bones1,' that she could makeover in my image and send to do her bidding."

"I'll have the body exhumed, perhaps the police will be able to tell us more," Nikolas suggested quietly.

"Yes," Stefan agreed absently, he had lost interest in his doppelganger not long after the other man's death – whoever he had been he was buried under the name 'Stefan Cassadine' and that was what stung.

"What -" Nikolas hesitated, unsure now of how much he had a right to ask and what his uncle might be unwilling to share. "What do you plan to do now?" he asked at last. "Wyndemere is as much your home as it is mine, you are always welcome here," he extended the offer tentatively, hoping but not expecting that it would be accepted.

"Your offer is generous," Stefan commented with a wry smile, "especially considering your wife's likely reaction to my reappearance. And once things are a little more settled I may take you up on it, but for the moment I cannot stay here." He caught and held Nikolas's eyes. "It is of utmost importance that no one learn I have been here, that I am even alive. I am certain your grandmother still hopes to stop me before I am able to reach you – she cannot afford for you to discover her treachery. My public return must be handled very carefully so that perhaps we may catch her in her own trap and be rid of her at last."

"You may rely on my discretion," Nikolas promised immediately. "But where do you intend to stay," he asked bewildered. If Stefan wished to fly under the radar he would not be staying in a hotel or any other public location, and it wasn't as though his uncle had friends in Port Charles who would hide him, perhaps Alexis but with two young children in the house he could hardly expect to stay hidden there.

"Somewhere safe." Stefan offered an enigmatic smile with that characteristically cryptic answer.

Stefan finished the last of his drink quickly, knowing that he would likely want more before the night was over, but for the moment he set the glass aside as he braced himself to continue. "There are a few more things that I should mention to you before I leave," he said.

"I -" Stefan hesitated trying to find the best way to break the rest of his news to Nikolas. "I did not return to Port Charles alone," he said at last, bracing himself to observe Nikolas for any signs of deception - he would know he told himself if Nikolas was truly surprised by the news or if his shock was feigned.

* * *

_**The Haunted Star**_

"Hey," Carly whispered, tears filling her eyes. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

"Carly." This time Courtney managed to give voice to the name smiling as she sat up to give the other woman a hug. "It's good to see you too."

Carly hesitated only a moment before returning the hug, wrapping her arms around her friend and squeezing gingerly. "I'm almost afraid to hug you," she admitted. "You're so thin right now I think I could accidentally break you in half."

"I won't break," Courtney promised as she leaned back against the pillows. "I'm stronger than I look."

"That's good," Carly said with brutal honesty, "'Cause you look like hell."

"Thanks," Courtney mock glared at her as she brushed her hair back tucking the long strands behind her ears.

"Oh stop." Carly muttered recognizing her faux pas. "I didn't mean it like that. Honestly, you're alive – just 'cause of that you look amazing, but . . ." she brushed a knuckle over a particularly vivid bruise on Courtney's cheek, "it does look like you had kind of a rough time of it."

Courtney suppressed the instinctive urge to flinch from Carly's touch, forcing herself to hold still until the urge passed. "Getting away from Helena's guards wasn't easy," was all she offered by way of an explanation.

"So Helena had you all this time?" That was what Luke had set but Carly felt like she had to ask anyway, Luke's Cassadine paranoia sometimes got away from him.

"She was there," Courtney agreed with a nod. "She left me in this place, this villa in France, there were guards and . . . I was a prisoner." She took a deep breath, forcing back the worst of the memories. "We were prisoners," she said repeated her last words with a slight correction.

The slight change piqued Carly's interest immediately. "**We**?" she repeated. "Who's this we?"

"Stefan and I – he was there too. He'd already been there for years before she took me as well."

"Stefan?" Carly was Spencer enough to recognize the name immediately, she had had few dealings with the man herself, but he had once been married to her mother after all. "As in Stefan **Cassadine**, Nikolas's 'Uncle Stefan'? Isn't he dead?"

"So am I," Courtney reminded her with a dry laugh. "Helena arranged it; she wanted to remove everyone that she considered an undesirable influence from Nikolas's life, from his . . . his son's life. So she kept us there under guard, and she'd visit sometimes to gloat – she'd tell us everything that we were missing, everyone who wasn't missing us."

"We did miss you," Carly hastened to assure her when she heard that bitter characterization. "We missed you everyday."

"Right," Courtney whispered, not believing her but not having the energy to argue the point. "It doesn't matter now anyway. We got away, that's all that matters." Courtney flexed her hand unconsciously until she felt the new skin stretch at the edges of her injury and the sudden burst of pain caught her attention. She glanced down at the bandage on her hand as she reminded herself of that, "That's all that matters," she repeated the words to herself.

"That's right," Carly agreed, recognizing by Courtney's tone that it wouldn't be a good idea to push her in this area Carly held off on asking how they'd managed the escape. "You're here, and everyone will be so happy to see you. Sonny and your dad, Michael and Morgan – they have grown so much you're not going to believe it. They're not going to believe this, we need to call them."

"No, no, don't do that," Courtney was shaking her head vehemently, as she pressed back against the pillows away from Carly. "You can't tell anybody."

"But Courtney, they're your family, they love you – they need to know you're alive," Carly protested.

"I'm not ready," Courtney's eyes filled with tears. "I can't seem them yet. Please, please, Carly don't say anything. I need – I need just a little more time."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," remembering Luke's warning Carly tried to soothe Courtney. "I won't say anything until you're ready; I promise."

Once Courtney was calm Carly started again. "We can hold off on telling your family for as long as you want, but someone has **got** to tell Nikolas – surely you want to see your son and Helena is his grandmother; he needs to know what she's done."

This time Courtney's eyes were dry and her voice laced with venom. "Nikolas knows," she said bitterly. "He's known all along."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

"Courtney?" The name hit Nikolas like a blow to the stomach; hearing that name leave his uncle's lips he suddenly had to fight for breath. One hand went to the collar of his shirt, but finding it already unbuttoned his fingers dug instead into the muscle of his shoulder as he tried to make sense of what Stefan was saying.

"How is that possible?" he choked out the question. "I was there. I watched Courtney die just after she gave birth to our son; I stood – I stood **right there** while the doctors did everything they could to revive her."

"Everything except give her the counteragent to the drug that your grandmother used to simulate her death," Stefan supplied his eyes fixed on Nikolas.

Nikolas processed Stefan's words but wasn't able to hold onto them as he thought about Courtney, about Spencer. "Courtney and I," he mused aloud, "we have a son . . . I guess – I guess you knew that already?"

"He's a beautiful boy," Stefan offered by way of affirmation, not wanting to interrupt Nikolas's train of thought

"Spencer's never met his mother. I've been telling him she's in heaven and now that's not true. How do I tell him that it's not true? How do I tell my son that his mother is really alive?"

"Where is she?" He asked meeting Stefan's gaze at last. "Can I – can I see her?"

Stefan hesitated before answering, finally he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Nikolas," he said, "but she does not wish to see you."

"She blames me," Nikolas guessed nodding his understanding of the point – he couldn't blame Courtney for being angry with him, his grandmother had quite literally destroyed her life.

Stefan's next words came as a shock, though.

"She believes that you knew, that you have known all along she was alive and that you chose to leave in her in Helena's . . . care."

"That I knew!" Nikolas repeated Stefan's words appalled by the charge. "How-how could she believe such a thing?"

"Because Helena told her that you knew."

* * *

**The Haunted Star**

"What do you mean Nikolas knew?" Carly asked in shock – even Luke hadn't implied that. "And what makes you think that?"

"Helena, she said that Nikolas knew. Not from the very beginning, he wasn't part of the plan or anything. But he found out and he just – he just decided to leave me there and not to tell anyone, not to do anything about it."

_**Flashback**_

_Courtney had been Helena's 'guest' for nine months and by this point her reaction to Helena's visits was nearly a conditioned response. These visits were eagerly anticipated because Helena brought with her news of their families and friends, but she dreaded them as well because Helena used every opportunity to twist the knife, to remind them of all they were missing back home. Every announcement and photograph came with a side dish of psychological torture as Helena forced Courtney and Stefan to watch from afar as life passed them by. But on this day, when Helena made this announcement Courtney had known it couldn't be true. _

"_Nikolas will find out the truth eventually." It was perhaps foolish of Courtney to throw down the challenge, but she was tired and angry and she lashed out the only way she could. "He will find out what you've done and he will __**never**__ forgive you."_

"_My dear, Nikolas already knows," Helena answered with an amused smile. "He's known for quite some time. Oh, not about Stefan of course, I was much too careful with that information," she threw a taunting smile in her son's direction. "But he did find out about you, and he doesn't intend to do anything."_

"_No," Courtney's denial was immediate and emphatic, she wasn't going to be caught in one of Helena's webs. "You're lying. Nikolas wouldn't do that. He wouldn't keep me away from our son. Even if he didn't want me anymore, Nikolas would never make our son to grow up without a mother – he knows too well what that feels like."_

"_Growing up without Laura was one of the greatest regrets of Nikolas's life," Stefan agreed. "He would not inflict such pain on his child." _

"_Ah, but your child __**will**__ have a mother, Courtney, just not you." Helena raised a gentle hand, touching Courtney's arm in mock sympathy. "Nikolas has selected another mother, a better mother. And your presence is no longer desired." Her smile was distinctly malicious as Helena continued, "By this time next year your son will be calling Emily 'Mommy,' just as Nikolas wishes."_

"_I don't believe you," Courtney insisted, shutting her eyes but unable to shut out the words. "Nikolas wouldn't do that; I don't believe you."_

_**End Flashback**_

"I didn't believe her at first," Courtney remembered. "I was **so sure** that she was just messing with my head. But later . . . it's true; I know that now. Nikolas sold me out for his plans with Emily. I had no place in the family he wanted with her so he left me there to rot."

"Nikolas is nothing to me," she declared firmly, "but I am not going to be kept away from my son, not again."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

Stefan sighed running a hand over his face and across his eyes as he debated whether or not to tell Nikolas the rest. Nikolas deserved to know; Nikolas needed to know, but in telling him this Stefan ran risk that he would tip his hand to Helena. He knew that Nikolas would not be able to hold his silence when he learned about Colleen's involvement with Helena. This concerned Nikolas's son, though, and Stefan couldn't ask Nikolas to take any risks with the child.

"It wasn't Helena's accusation that convinced Courtney," he said at last. "It shook her, but her belief in you was stronger that. No, wearing down Courtney's trust in you was a long, slow process that Helena savored. It took time and a lot of effort. And in the end, it wasn't Helena who finally 'proved' to Courtney that you had betrayed her. It was Colleen."

"Colleen?" Nikolas met Stefan's eyes with sudden panic, "Spencer's nanny? What did she have to do with anything?"

"You took your honeymoon in France, do you remember? Stefan asked carefully

"Yes," Nikolas agreed hesitantly, not seeing the connection.

"And Colleen came with you to watch the baby while you and Emily celebrated."

"Yes." The light was beginning to dawn and Nikolas did not like the picture that he was beginning to see.

"The chateau where you celebrated your marriage was not far from the villa where Helena kept us prisoner. Near enough, in fact, for Colleen to slip away for a short visit."

_**Flashback**_

_Courtney smiled across the chessboard at Stefan as she moved her knight. "I think I'm finally getting the hang of this game," she announced as she took his bishop._

"_You are certainly improving," he conceded before taking her now unprotected rook with his with his own knight and placing her in check; the action elicited a groan from his opponent and a few words mumbled under her breath. "What was that?" he asked offering her a faux stern look._

"_Nothing," Courtney muttered as she resumed her study of the chess board._

_Their perusal of the board was interrupted when the door opened suddenly and without warning. Courtney and Stefan both rose to their feet, tensing in anticipation of another encounter with Helena – the only likely interruption to the normal routine of their days, but they were surprised instead to see a young woman enter the room, a young woman with a baby carrier. _

_After a moment's study Stefan recognized the young woman from the home videos that Helena regularly supplied of Nikolas's life, and that meant that the baby was . . . _

"_What kind of game is this?" he asked sharply. "What has my mother done now?"_

_Colleen flinched away from Stefan, her grip tightening on the baby carrier in her hand as she struggled to meet Stefan's gaze. "Not Mrs. Cassadine, sir," she announced. "Nikolas, he instructed me to bring Spencer for a visit." _

_Courtney felt blood roaring in her ears and she swayed on her feet as the nanny's words awakened her darkest fears. She watched as the red-head set the carrier down on Stefan's desk and bent over it to unbuckle the baby._

"_Nikolas told you to come?" she asked quietly. _

"_Yes," Colleen confirmed turning around with an instant diversion - the baby in her arms. "Did you want to hold him?" she asked._

_That was an offer Courtney was incapable of refusing, she wanted to know more about Nikolas, about how they came to be here, but she __**needed**__ to hold her son, and she was painfully aware that this might be the only chance she'd get._

_As Courtney held the baby Stefan took over questioning Colleen. "How much is my mother paying you to betray Nikolas?" he asked bluntly. _

"_I don't work for Mrs. Cassadine," Colleen assured him. "And I wouldn't betray Nikolas. I'm very grateful for the opportunity he's given me." _

_The words were right, but the performance was just a little off, Stefan didn't believe her. "You expect us to believe that Nikolas sent you with his child to France for a visit? If he knew of this travesty and wished for Courtney to see her son, he would have come himself." _

"_But he __**is**__ in France, sir. He and Miss Emily are on their honeymoon. They're sightseeing today and I'm to look after the baby while they're busy. He asked me to bring the baby here, so that she could meet him." Colleen nodded in Courtney's direction as she described her errand. _

_Looking directly at Courtney she offered the most damning proof of all – Nikolas's apology. "He thought he owed you this much, and he said to tell you that he's sorry," she offered as though the words should bring some consolation. "He is . . . he knows that this is wrong, but he just doesn't see any other way. Surely you can understand – he loves Miss Emily. And this way they can have their life together – the life they would have had if you hadn't interfered."_

_Tears streaked down Courtney's face as she sat on the couch with her son in her arms and finally believed the story of her lover's betrayal. Her tears fell into his hair as she looked into his sleeping face. "I love you," she whispered allowing herself to take some pleasure in the fact that she was speaking the words directly to him for the first time. _

_Stefan and Colleen continued to talk as he searched for holes in her story but Courtney had stopped listening. She just sat there with the baby in her arms, and held him, and cried._

_Courtney didn't know how much time had passed – it was both a moment and an eternity later that the door opened again. _

"_Ms. McHenry," the guard announced. "It's time for you to go."_

"_No," Courtney whispered, her arms tightening around Spencer as she realized that he was about to be taken from her again. She was on her feet in an instant and backing away from the approaching nanny. "I won't let you take him," she protested. "He's __**my**__ son. You tell Nikolas he can go to hell. He can have another baby with Emily if he wants to, this is __**my**__ son." _

_Colleen shook her head, "I'm sorry ma'am, but you have no choice. Make this easier on everyone and give me the baby."_

"_That is not going to happen."_

_As much as he wanted to help Courtney, Stefan knew when the second guard entered the room that there was no hope for it. _

"_Courtney," his voice was quiet, carefully controlled as he caught her attention. "Listen to me," he urged her._

_Courtney tried at first to avoid Stefan's gaze, knowing that she did not want to hear whatever it was she had to say, but as the nanny and the guards closed in on her she turned in desperation to her only ally. _

_When she finally met his eyes Stefan continued, his own heart breaking for her as he spoke the words. "I know that you don't want to let him go, but this isn't a fight you can win. And if you resist, they will try to take Spencer from you by force, and he could get hurt." _

_Those were the only words that could have convinced Courtney to let them take her baby from her. Anything else, any threat to her, she could have handled, but she wouldn't run the risk that Spencer might be hurt in the struggle. _

_Even though her every instinct was screaming at her to hold him tighter, Courtney forced herself to loosen her grip, finally releasing her son into Colleen's waiting arms. _

"_I love you," she told him one last time as he was taken away then she collapsed, sobbing, into Stefan's arms. _

"_I will never forgive him for this," Courtney whispered bitterly though her tears. "I __**hate**__ him."_

_**End Flashback**_

"No wonder Courtney believed it," Nikolas murmured. "Hearing that I almost believe it myself – she played me for a fool, and I – I had no idea anything was wrong."

"God! What kind of viper have I let into my home?" Nikolas wondered as the implications of Colleen's betrayal raced through his mind. "I entrusted my son to that woman and all this time she's been working for Helena. She could have handed him over to Helena at any time."

"There was no need for her to do so. As long as Colleen was working for you Helena had free access to the child without calling your attention to that fact. Had she taken him you would never have stopped searching. And you might have stumbled upon other things Helena could not afford for you find – like me." His lips twisting in a bitter half-smile Stefan raised his glass towards Nikolas, offering him a self-deprecating salute. "Helena could not risk drawing too much of your attention."

Stefan stood up slowly and moved closer to Nikolas. "Now we cannot risk drawing too much of hers, not before we're ready. I know what you have to do, Nikolas and I won't ask you not to do it. I would not have told you this yet but I knew how important it was – you can't allow Colleen to stay near your son, but you must rid yourself of her without alerting Helena to my return." The last words were filled with quiet intensity. "Do what you must Nikolas, but do it with care."

Setting his drink on the desk Stefan turned back towards Nikolas. "It's late, I should go," he said.

"I wish you wouldn't."

Stefan rested his hand for a moment on Nikolas's shoulder. "I wish I didn't have to, but don't worry I won't be disappearing again." He embraced him one final time, whispering in his ear, "Keep your eyes and ears open, Helena should be in Port Charles by now."

Stefan stepped cautiously out of the study and slipped down the hall towards the nearest entrance to the tunnels. Picking up his own glass Nikolas collapsed into the chair Stefan had just vacated and focused on the glass his uncle had left behind. His entire life had just been turned upside down and the only proof that Nikolas had of any of it was a half empty glass of brandy and a miserable headache.

1 If you don't recognize it this is the title of a fabulous fic by Antigone that was part of the inspiration for this story, or at least for Stefan's reemergence.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_**Wyndemere **_

"I'd have thought you'd be in bed by now." Nikolas was unsettled to find Colleen in the nursery watching his son sleep. "Did he wake you?"

Colleen straightened stepping away from the bed as she heard Nikolas's voice behind her. "No, sir, he's sleeping like an angel. I just came to check on him."

Watching her watch at his son it took everything Nikolas had not to grab her then and there and haul her away from him, but fearing her reaction and that she might be a danger to Spencer he knew that he had to get Colleen out of the nursery before confronting her. "I appreciate your devotion to my son's welfare," he said forcing sincerity into his voice despite the irony of his words. "It's good that you're still awake, I needed to speak with you. Please come to the study with me."

"Of course, sir," Colleen agreed, turning back towards Spencer she reached down to tuck him in more securely.

When he saw her reaching towards his son Nikolas panicked, fighting the urge to grab her and jerk her away from Spencer he quickly stepped past her and bent down himself. He pulled the covers up over Spencer's shoulders and ran a gentle hand over the boy's hair.

By the time he had turned back towards Colleen Nikolas had regained his composure. "I haven't gotten to spend much time with him lately. Tucking him in is a rare privilege. Now, if you will come with me."

"Yes, sir," Colleen smiled serenely and following his gesture preceded Nikolas out of the room and down the hall.

No sooner had the study door closed behind her than Colleen found herself pinned to the wall Nikolas's hand around her throat.

"How long have you been working for my grandmother?"

"I'm not! It's not true! I'm not!" Colleen frantically clawed at the hand holding her to the wall as she denied the accusation. "I've had nothing to do with Mrs. Cassadine."

"Don't lie to me." Nikolas gave her throat a warning squeeze before relaxing his grip again so that she could speak.

Colleen struggled for breath as tears of fear slid down her cheeks. "I swear," she whispered. "I swear I'm not working for her."

"Don't lie to me again," he repeated, his tone conversational even as he tightened his hold until her hands fell to her side and she ceased her struggles. "I'm told that this is how my father killed Chloe Morgan. Now I don't have much experience with murder, I don't know how tight I can make my hold before I crush your trachea, or how long I can deprive you of oxygen before your brain is irreversibly damaged. So unless you want be the one who teaches me these things, I suggest you answer honestly. I already know the truth, now I want to hear it from you."

"I – I'm sorry," she gasped at last trying to press her self further back into the wall. "Spencer was never in danger, I swear. I just, she's his grandmother I didn't see any harm in letting her visit him. That's all it was."

"Was it?"

"Yes," Colleen answered desperately. "I let her see him, that's all, and she never tried to take him, he was never in danger."

His grip never wavering Nikolas leaned closer, speaking directly into her ear. "So you never took my son to visit his mother?"

"His mother?" Colleen cringed away from Nikolas as she repeated his words wondering how he could have learned about Courtney.

"Courtney Matthews, Spencer's mother, a woman I believed was dead. You took Spencer to visit her in France and you told her you had come on my behalf. Do you not remember this?"

Colleen was crying again and she had to force out the words, "I remember."

"And was it on my behalf?"

"No."

"You were working for my grandmother?"

"Yes."

"So, when you said that all you did for Helena was allow her to visit my son, that was another lie?"

"Yes."

"I would strongly suggest that that be the last lie you tell," Nikolas's voice grew even more menacing as he delivered that his final warning. "Now, is there anything else I need to know?"

There was a long tense moment before Colleen hesitantly spoke again. "Your uncle Stefan was there too, in France. Madame is keeping him there," she offered the only information of value that she had, unsure of whether he knew that too, but very sure of the consequences if he did know and she lied again.

Hearing her answer, Nikolas released her abruptly, wiping his hand on his pants as though touching her had contaminated him in some way. "Very good," he acknowledged her confession.

Colleen collapsed as soon as Nikolas let go and knelt there at his feet as she gasped for breath.

"Anything else?"

Colleen's mind raced frantically but she couldn't think of anything else, Helena wasn't inclined to share information with her pawns. "No," she whispered looking up at him at last. "I don't know anything else. You have to believe me."

"How do you contact Helena? Where is she now?"

"I don't – I don't know," she denied desperately. "I've never – all I know is that Madame, she contacts me when she's here and she wishes to see Spencer."

"And you immediately make him available."

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I just, I was afraid of her, I did what she told me to do."

"And now you're going to do what I tell you to."

Colleen swallowed nervously at the threat implicit in his words and one hand reached up to brush against the bruises that were already forming around her neck. Finally, she found the courage to ask, "What are you going to do with me?"

Nikolas looked at the woman kneeling in front of him and couldn't think past her betrayal – he had brought her into his home, entrusted her with his son, and every day that she had been there his son had been in danger. "There's a guard waiting outside, you're going to go with him."

Nikolas's tone and the cold look in his eyes terrified Colleen. "Please don't do this," she begged him. "Please, I'm sorry, have mercy."

"You're still breathing; I've shown you enough mercy. Were I my father, my grandmother, or even my uncle you would be dead already, you know that don't you?"

Colleen had seen enough of Helena to know that was true, but Nikolas's words did little to reassure her regarding his intentions. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, "I'm sorry, please don't kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you," Nikolas turned away from Colleen in disgust and froze when his eyes landed on the half empty glass of brandy that was still sitting on the edge of his desk. "Not yet anyway," he muttered before turning back towards her.

"There is a guard waiting to escort you off the island," he said again. "You'll go where he takes you and stay there until I am certain you cause any further damage. At that point I will allow you to be released and you will leave Port Charles." He took a deep breath before continuing, "Listen closely because I only intend to say this once. You will leave Port Charles. If I ever set eyes on you again, you will regret it; if I ever see you near my son, I won't be responsible for what I do to you."

Ignoring Colleen's continued apologies and pleas Nikolas called out to the guard and stood watching impassively as she was dragged from the room.

* * *

_**Haunted Star**_

Waiting until all was quiet Stefan stepped onto the deck of the Haunted Star and made his way through the dark lobby and toward the aft stateroom.

"She's sleeping." Luke's voice echoing out of a dark corner of the room caught Stefan halfway across. "It was kind of a long night for her."

Stefan pivoted around to face Luke, his eyes searching the darkness for his host's form and finally locating him, a slightly less black shape in the dark room. "Anything I need to know?" he asked stifling a flash of concern.

"My niece stopped by for a visit," Luke answered his face briefly illuminated by a flaring match as he lit his cigar. "Courtney asked me to call her," he continued before Stefan could object, "They're friends, you know."

"I was aware, and I expected that Courtney would want to contact her family privately before her resurrection became public knowledge, though I had hoped that she would wait until she was stronger." Leaving the lights off Stefan moved nearer to Luke's table, but made no move to join him. "I hope that Caroline can be trusted to keep quiet." The last came out as both comment and question.

"Sometimes she can; she lies like a champion when she wants to."

"I recall; a talent she comes by honestly, no doubt."

"That a jab at my sister?" Luke asked stubbing out his cigar in the ash tray as he gave Stefan a half-hearted glare.

Stefan rolled his eyes at Luke's accusation. "I was referring to you, though I suppose the inference could as accurately be applied to Barbara."

Acknowledging the truth of that statement Luke shrugged it off and moved on. "Caroline probably won't say anything," he said, then hesitated, "at least not anything that will get back to Helena."

"So listen," Luke sighed pouring a drink and pushing it across the table in Stefan's direction. "About the girl, any idea why she doesn't want to see her brother?"

Stefan left the drink untouched, but took a moment to consider Luke's question. "She has said nothing to me. Perhaps she simply did not feel strong enough for more than one visitor tonight."

"Don't think that's it," Luke disagreed. "I offered to call him before we even mentioned Caroline. She very specifically didn't want to see him."

When Stefan didn't offer anything more Luke spoke up again, "It occurs to me that you and Corinthos never really got along."

"I can't imagine what you're implying," Stefan responded mildly.

"I'm just wondering what you might have said to Courtney about her brother."

Stefan acknowledged the unspoken accusation with a resigned sigh. "I am not to blame for everything Spencer, nor have I attempted to influence Courtney's feelings for her brother. In truth, we have not discussed Mr. Corinthos recently, but I know that she has missed him deeply and that she regrets the distance between them that preceded her 'death.'"

"I **know** nothing about Courtney's motivation in refusing to see her brother," he repeated, "but if you wish me to speculate . . ." When Luke gestured for him to go on, he continued. "I would say that Courtney loves her brother and she does want to see him again, but she is also angry and hurt. He had no reason to suspect she was still alive, she knows that. But knowing that **here**," Stefan gestured to his head and then his heart, "and knowing it **here** are two very different things. There is something uniquely painful about being alive and having to watch as the people you love continue their lives as though you'd never existed. Courtney needs to forgive her brother for that and she doesn't want to see him before she has because she fears saying something which she will later regret."

"Doesn't seem to have bothered you much," Luke commented. "You went to see Nikolas."

Stefan thought over his meeting with Nikolas, the hurt in Nikolas's eyes when he'd lashed out at him. _When he died, did you mourn for me, or were you simply glad to be rid of the monster you believed me to be?_ "My visit also might have been premature, I hurt Nikolas tonight. There are things I should have said but didn't and things that I did say that I cannot now take back."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

Resting his hand on the nursery door Nikolas hesitated, part of him sober enough to know that he really shouldn't go in. He'd collapsed in the study after Colleen . . . left, and helped himself to a drink or ten needing to block out the memory of her cries, forget the feel of her throat in his hands. It had worked, when he closed his eyes now he couldn't even see the look in her eyes as he strangled her or feel the frantic beat of her pulse under his thumb. But not even the better part of a bottle had been enough to erase Stefan's words, _while I waited for one of you to search for me, you buried him under my name, and forgot me_. Nikolas remembered the shadows of doubt and disappointment in his uncle's eyes and knew that he had lost something precious, Stefan's faith.

Pushing the door open Nikolas stumbled into the nursery dropping to his knees beside the bed and took what solace he could find watching his son sleep.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to Spencer, the alcohol making him more sentimental than usual. "You deserve better than this, you deserve everything in the world and I wanted you to have everything that I didn't. I didn't want this. I would never have kept your mother from you, you need her; the way I needed Laura and I wouldn't have denied you that; I wouldn't have done that. Not for Emily, not for anything."

"Helena, what she's done . . . I don't know what's going to happen now, what Courtney's going to do," he trailed off. "I just don't know.

* * *

_**Haunted Star**_

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" Stefan chided gently when he found Courtney waiting up for him.

"I'm supposed to be **resting**, which I've been doing, all day. Besides, there was no way I was going to be able to sleep until you got back and I found out how your meeting with Nikolas went." Courtney tried to pretend a calm that she could not make herself feel but the moment Stefan lowered himself onto the bed beside her, she buried her face in his chest, her arms wrapping around him.

"Hey," Stefan returned her embrace brushing one hand over her hair, "what's all this about?"

"I was – God, I was scared, Stefan. What if she caught you? What if Nikolas called Helena? What if . . ." Courtney took a deep breath forcing herself to relax, "You know, at first I was fine, but the longer you were gone . . ."

"It's okay," he reassured her quietly, rubbing her back to help her calm down. "I'm alright. I didn't see any sign of Helena and no one but Nikolas saw me. I went in through the tunnels; the route is supposed to be impassible so there was no surveillance."

"Nikolas," Courtney began, but Stefan hushed her gently.

"Nikolas was shocked to find out that I was alive. He had no hand in what Helena did to me and he certainly wasn't going to turn me back over to her."

"I know you want to believe that," she couldn't hide her bitterness, "but I can't trust him." Squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply trying to clear her head. "I know," she whispered at last, "he didn't know about you. He wouldn't have done that to **you**," _just me._

"I told him about you," Stefan told her as he leaned back against the headboard, settling in beside her but keeping hold of her hand, "that you were alive. His shock seemed real. He was . . . distressed to learn what had happened to you."

"He was distressed to learn that you knew what had happened to me," Courtney countered stubbornly. "I was supposed to be his dirty little secret, he's afraid you'll tell someone I'm alive."

"He asked to see you; he wanted to know that you were alright. I think that he's genuinely concerned about you."

"He wanted to know if he could get rid of me before anyone else found out."

"You're deliberately being difficult," Stefan chided her. "I know that you're afraid, but you're safe now, nothing is going to happen to you."

* * *

**_Wyndemere_**

Coming home late from her shift at the hospital Emily's first stop was Nikolas's study. Despite his promise to wait up for her she was unsurprised to find the room empty; she was surprised however to find a nearly empty bottle of brandy tipped over on the desk. Nikolas frequently had a glass or two at night when he finished his business, but Alfred kept the decanter filled and it would have taken considerably more drinking than that to do this much damage. It was unlike Nikolas to drink so much alone.

Emily's concern was answered a moment later when she spied two glasses, one of them unfinished. "Well," she murmured righting the bottle as she thought of her husband, "it looks like you earned the headache you'll have tomorrow morning." Leaving the glasses for someone else to clean up later Emily headed for bed, assuming Nikolas would be sleeping his way to a hangover.

"Good night, Miss Emily," Alfred's greeting stopped Emily on the stairs.

"Good night, Alfred," she returned with a tired smile for the elderly butler. "I assume Nikolas has already retired, and I'm on my way to bed, don't you think you should do the same?"

"Master Nikolas is in the nursery, madam" Alfred corrected quietly.

"In the nursery?" Emily asked with growing concern, "At this hour? Did something happen to Spencer?"

"Not to my knowledge madam." Alfred hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should tell Emily about her husband's surprise visitor or the other events of the evening which had so unsettled the household. In the end he decided to say nothing, it was not his place to share his employer's concerns, even with his employer's wife.

"If that is all madam?" he asked prompting her dismissal and leaving Emily to make her way to the nursery.

Nikolas wasn't playing with his son or even holding him in the rocking chair as Emily expected. Instead she found him sitting on the nursery floor one arm flung across the bed his hand on the sleeping child's chest. His head rested against the side of the mattress as he watched Spencer sleep.

"Nikolas?" Emily called his name hesitantly. "Has something happened? Is Spencer alright?"

"Everything's wrong," Nikolas answered without looking away from his son. "His whole life is going to be turned upside down and there's nothing I can do about it."

He looked up at Emily with haunted eyes, "I didn't know; I never . . . and now I don't know what to do. He's my son, how do I make this right?"


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_**Greystone Manor**_

"Sonny," Carly's strident tone preceded her into the room as she stormed passed Milo and into the room where Sonny and Kate were eating breakfast.

"Good, you're here. I need to talk to you."

Sonny sighed and sent Kate an apologetic smile before turning to Carly. "Good morning, Carly," he greeted her with exaggerated courtesy. "What brings you by so early?"

"I need to talk to you," Carly repeated ignoring the implied reprimand.

"So talk," he said setting down his fork and turning towards her but not rising from the breakfast table, "We're listening."

Carly dismissed Kate with a glance before turning back to her ex-husband. "Alone, Sonny," she corrected. "I need to talk to you **alone**."

"No," Kate's clear voice interrupted before Sonny could answer. "No," she repeated firmly as she met Sonny's gaze before turning to the other woman. "I'm sorry, Carly," Kate managed a pretense of civility, "but you cannot barge into our home at any time you choose and demand to speak with my husband alone. We were having breakfast and you are interrupting. If this is an emergency involving the children you may tell us both; if it's some crisis of your own devising, you'll have to make an appointment."

"Nice speech," Carly answered Kate with a mocking smile, "but this is really important and really not your business."

Carly met Sonny's eyes and tried to convey to him the importance of her plea. "Sonny, I'm not kidding around here. You really need to hear this, and I can't say anything in front of her."

Sonny had seen Carly in all of her moods, he had seen her pull scam after scam to get her own way, and he knew better than to trust her when she sounded sincere, but something in her eyes caught him and he knew that he couldn't refuse. "Kate, if you could just –"

"No," Kate knew what Sonny was going to say from the first pained syllable and she stopped him before he could ask her to leave. "Business is one thing, but I won't be sent from the room like a child every time your ex-wife demands to speak with you. I'm not going to stand for this, Sonny. I told you when I agreed to marry you that I wouldn't be second to her; I won't let her come in here and make trouble."

"That's not what this is," Sonny protested grabbing her hand from across the table before she could pull away. "You're going to have to trust me on this because I can't explain it, but I need to hear what Carly has to say."

"Fine," Kate gave in with ill grace but perfect manners taking the napkin from her lap and pressing it to her lips before dropping it on the table by her plate and rising from the table. "A pleasure as always, Carly," she inclined her head towards their guest while lying through her teeth and let her hostile gaze rest for a moment on her husband before turning on her heel and stalking from the room.

"I'm going to pay for that later," Sonny muttered before giving Carly his attention. "This better be important," he warned her sternly.

"It is," she assured him seriously but then fell silent. Carly hadn't really thought passed getting to Sonny and now that she had his attention she wasn't sure how best to tell him.

"You'd probably better sit down." Carly uttered the classic precursor to important news absently while she tried to marshal her thoughts.

"I am sitting," Sonny reminded her impatiently, "Now get to the point."

"Then maybe I better be the one to sit down." On those words Carly wandered across to the seating area, dropped down onto one of the overstuffed couches and then found that she had to lean over the back of it to even see Sonny. "Come over here," she demanded, beckoning him into the main room. "I don't want to have to shout."

Recognizing the stalling tactic for what it was Sonny followed her into the other room without taking the bait, but he did begin to worry, _what could be so bad that she was making this big a production about telling him after all the trouble she'd gone to get his attention?_

"What's this all about, Carly?" he prompted watching her hands twist nervously in her lap.

"Damn it, I should not be the one who has to explain this," Carly muttered, she wasn't sure who else should have been in charge of explaining to Sonny, but she was pretty sure that somewhere in the divorce agreement there should have been a clause exempting her from this sort of conversation. Unfortunately for her this wasn't the sort of conversation the average divorce attorneys would anticipate, so she had no excuse for avoiding it and no one else to palm this off on.

"Uncle Luke called me last night," she said at last, figuring that with this subject matter using Luke would actually add a little credibility to the incredible story. "He summoned me to the Star, said he had something I'd want to see."

"I almost didn't go," she admitted. "I figured it was just another one of his games, but in the end I was curious, so . . ." she trailed off as she thought of what had been awaiting her at the Star the night before. "It wasn't a game this time, Sonny."

"At first I didn't believe what I was seeing could be real. I mean, I saw her with my own eyes, but it didn't seem possible." She looked up at Sonny, holding his gaze as she continued. "Courtney's dead; I saw her body; I went to her memorial service; I knew she was dead, but there she was, alive." Seeing the shock that her words provoked Carly dropped her eyes but forged on with the story. "It didn't make any sense, but then Luke started to talk and it started to sound pretty familiar."

Sonny was on his feet then, biting down the instinctive urge to dismiss her words as impossible he paced away from Carly but continued to listen.

"Helena knew all along that the baby was Nikolas's. She needed to get Courtney out of the way. I mean, think about it, she'd already abducted Courtney once and Courtney got away. If she'd just disappeared, especially since she'd just had a baby, it would have been too suspicious and people would have looked for her, you, Nikolas, someone would have gone looking. But if she was dead . . ." seeing that she'd already convinced him Carly let the final sentence hang in the air between them for Sonny to evaluate on his own.

"But she's not," in a surprisingly short period of time Sonny found himself accepting the unthinkable as reality. "Courtney's not dead."

"She's alive," Carly confirmed. "And she's back in Port Charles."

"And she at Luke's?" Even in the midst of confusion still bordering on disbelief, Sonny felt a pang of hurt that Courtney hadn't come to him; it seemed that she would sooner go to a stranger for help than come to her own brother. "Why would she go to Luke?" he wondered aloud. "Why didn't she come to me?"

"She's, you know, she's hiding," Carly explained. "She wanted to go somewhere safe, but somewhere Helena wouldn't expect, wouldn't be watching for her. She knew enough Cassadine history to know that Luke would protect her from Helena but she doesn't really know him so no one would expect her to go there. She does want to see you, though," Courtney hadn't said that, had very pointedly not said that, but Carly knew what her friend needed even if she wasn't willing to ask for it. "So you need to go there, but don't – don't let anyone know that's what you're doing, 'cause Helena's probably having you watched, and you'll lead her straight to them."

"Them?" In the midst of his confusion one word caught Sonny's attention, giving him something to focus on, "There's a 'them'? As in more than just Courtney?"

"Them," Carly winced as Sonny pounced on her slip, she'd really intended to leave that part of the explanation to Luke. "Yes, 'them'." Recognizing that there was no way to avoid an explanation she decided to be flip, write it off as no big deal. "You know Helena, 'why keep one hostage when you can have two?' So, evidently Courtney did have some company, for the last two years she's been locked up with Nikolas's uncle."

"Nikolas's uncle? Wait, are we talking about Stefan Cassadine, that uncle?"

"Does he have another?" Carly offered a weak quip by way of response but her tone held no real amusement, she knew the stories about Stefan as well as anyone, the man had once been married to her mother after all.

"Stefan Cassadine's dead," Sonny protested.

"So was Courtney, dead's kind of a relative state when you're dealing with Cassadines; I thought you'd know that by now."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

"Oh God," Nikolas Cassadine awoke with a groan as the soft knocking at his bedroom door echoed into a cacophony inside his skull. Pulling the pillow from beneath his head, he tried for a moment to use it to block out the noise, but when the knocking persisted he gave in. "What is it?" he called out irritably, incapable this morning of mustering even the pretense of pleasantry.

The door opened slowly to admit Alfred. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir."

"What is it, Alfred?" Nikolas repeated the question without opening his eyes, all too aware that any lights in the room would set the jackhammers off again.

"Master Spencer is awake and calling for his nanny. As Miss Colleen is not here, I thought it best to consult with you on how you wished to proceed."

At the mention of his son Nikolas finally forced himself to sit up and look at Alfred. "Colleen?" he repeated the name aloud as he tried to figure out what Alfred was talking about. Then, "Oh God," he groaned again as the events of the previous evening rushed back to him. "Colleen's gone," he remembered.

Emily had no idea what the two men were talking about, but seeing the continued confusion and distress that were the likely result of his hangover she took pity on Nikolas and came to his rescue. "If you could just have someone get Spencer up and dressed I'll be down in a few minutes to give him his breakfast. We'll just have to all pitch in until Colleen gets back," she said with forced cheer even as she wondered why Colleen would be gone – it wasn't her usual day off.

"Colleen's not coming back," Nikolas broke in before Alfred could carry out Emily's instructions. "And **no one** is left alone with my son." Nikolas found himself glaring out of bloodshot eyes as he emphasized that instruction.

"Who's with him now?" Nikolas asked ignoring Emily's shocked gasp at his harsh words.

"I asked one of the maids to get him changed while I consulted with you." Alfred admitted slowly.

"You go back there and both of you stay until I get there; I'll be down in a few minutes." Even as he barked out his instructions Nikolas was already out of bed and pulling on a robe. "No one is to be alone with my son," he repeated the order as Alfred turned to do his bidding.

"Nikolas?" Emily's tone was careful as she called for his attention, not wanting to spark his temper but concerned by his clear paranoia. Nikolas's edict that no one be left alone with Spencer was a bad sign. "Colleen's not coming back? Is there something I need to know?"

"I fired Colleen."

Nikolas offered no apologies or explanations and Emily's temper started to rise. "Nikolas," she protested through gritted teeth. "Don't you think you should have discussed this with me before making such a drastic decision? I can't stay home with Spencer everyday, I have a job. You can't just fire the nanny and expect me to –"

"I don't expect you to do anything," Nikolas cut her off sharply as he grabbed clothes from the closet and began to dress. "As for Colleen, she was working for Helena, and when it comes to protecting my son I reserve the right to make whatever decisions I deem necessary. My primary responsibility is my son's safety, and I'm not going to wait until I have time to consult you before taking steps to protect him – Colleen is never coming back, and that decision is final."

Emily sat there for a moment, a rumpled bed sheet pulled up to her chest and her mouth hanging open in shock as she watched her husband stalk out of the room.

* * *

_**Greystone Manor**_

"Connie," Sonny offered a tentative greeting when he located his wife in her dressing room and couldn't help but wince as he met her angry gaze. "I know, I know you're mad and we need to talk about this, and we will," he promised, "but not right now. I just wanted to let you know I was heading out."

"To deal with whatever problem Carly's created this time?" Kate asked bitterly.

"That's not . . ." _fair_, Sonny started to protest but the last word died on his lips as the look on her face reminded him that she wasn't being entirely inaccurate. Carly did occasionally cause problems and then dump them into his lap. "This isn't Carly's problem, it's mine; and it's not a problem exactly -" the image of Courtney's still body under that sheet when he came to say goodbye in the hospital rose before his eyes and Sonny had to push down a wave of guilt, "it's just something of a . . . a surprise," he said at last stumbling over the understatement. "I need to go figure out what's going on."

"And you can't tell me what this is about?" The question was expected but Sonny still flinched over the answer that he had to give.

"_This is Spencers and Cassadines," Carly had explained when he'd asked why she'd refused to speak in front of Kate. "Rule Number 1 is don't trust anybody." _

"_Helena's dangerous, she's proved that more than once. Uncle Luke and Stefan are already working on a plan to bring her down, but until they're ready no one can know that Courtney and Stefan are in town, no one can know that we know they're alive. This is strictly need to know, Sonny. Do I think Kate is secretly working for Helena? No. Am I going to bet Courtney's life on it? Absolutely not. She doesn't need to know." _

"_She had a surprise connection to Trevor Lansing," Carly had reminded him, "it's not outside the realm of possibility that she could also be on Helena's payroll, it's not likely, but it's not impossible – you can't say anything to her about this."_

"I'm sorry, but not yet," he said at last.

"But Carly knows. You trust _her_," the accusation was clear.

"Kate," Sonny sighed, his irritation coming through in his use of her adopted name, rather than the older name from their childhood. "It's not about me trusting her, I didn't tell her anything – she told me. She did me a favor here and I'm not going to return it by betraying her confidence."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

"I think it's time you told me what happened last night, and who you were drinking with," Emily caught up to Nikolas in the nursery.

"Please, Emily, let's not do this right now," Nikolas's abnormally pale complexion and the red eyes were the only outward signs of the hangover he still felt, all of his attention was focused on the little boy who had clearly decided breakfast was over and was now pushing the remainders of his food around the bowl with his spoon.

"No, Nikolas this can't wait. You don't get to announce that Colleen was working for Helena and then walk off like this doesn't impact all of our lives."

Emily realized why Nikolas had tried to put her off as soon as she saw the tears well up in Spencer's eyes. "Leenie," he called out, she'd been temporarily forgotten in the fun of having breakfast with Daddy, but now that he'd been reminded Spencer called out for her and hoped for his nanny to appear. He started to struggle against the strap and tray trapping him in the high chair. "Leenie," Spencer's high childish voice grew into a wail when Colleen didn't appear.

It took only a moment for Nikolas to free him from the chair and scoop his now hysterical son back into his arms – this was pretty much the sight that had greeted him when he came into the nursery this morning and it had taken him some time to get the boy calmed down. His eyes narrowed at Emily, Nikolas gritted his teeth against his own pounding head and his son's small fists as he held onto the struggling, sobbing boy and tried to soothe him.

* * *

_**Haunted Star**_

"Sonny," Luke steps slowed when he came into the room and saw Sonny waiting in the main salon of his casino. "Always good to see an old friend but now's not really the best time for visitors," he said quietly, already feeling a twinge of guilt but trying to respect Courtney's wishes.

"Carly came by this morning," Sonny answered simply knowing that Luke would understand what that meant.

"Should have known Caroline wouldn't keep her mouth shut," Luke muttered before meeting Sonny's accusing gaze. "I wanted to tell you, man; I really did. But she asked me not to." When he saw Sonny wince in response to that revelation, he had to force himself to keep going. "I don't know how much Caroline told you," he began.

"My sister's alive, and evidently _didn't_ want to see me. What more is there to say?"

"A lot," Luke answered. "When she got here, she was sick, really . . . well, unconscious, really. Robin took a look at her, and she's getting better now, but she was pretty weak at first. She wanted to see Carly, and I figured she shouldn't get worked up, so I went with it."

"Well, you're here now, so why don't I go see if she's awake and tell her you're here."

Sonny nodded silently in answer and sat down by the roulette table as Luke left and he occupied himself with wondering what he would do when she refused to see him.

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

Worn out from his second tantrum of the day, it didn't take long for Spencer to fall into a fitful sleep and Nikolas was at last able to turn his attention to Emily.

"You had something you wished to discuss?" he asked his voice quiet in deference to the sleeping child, but the reprimand clear.

"I'm sorry, Nikolas," Emily began. "I shouldn't have said anything in front of Spencer. I wasn't thinking."

"The transition is going to be hard for him," Nikolas said, "he's very attached to Colleen."

"I know, that's why your firing her so abruptly caught me by surprise. What happened, Nikolas, what makes you think she was working for Helena?"

"She was working for Helena, she confessed as much when I confronted her," _and more_, Nikolas remembered, she'd confessed more than that.

"She confessed," Emily was stunned, "she actually admitted to you that she had been working for Helen?"

"Yes," Nikolas confirmed, and then, after a pause, "eventually."

"Eventually . . ." Emily was horrified by the implication, "Nikolas what did you do?"

"He's my son, Emily. I'll always do whatever I must to protect him from my grandmother, I thought you understood that."

"I do understand that, what I don't understand is how you can decide Colleen is some kind of traitor and then . . . I don't know, torture her into confessing. What's happened to you Nikolas?"

Nikolas said nothing, just met her gaze calmly. "You're acting just like . . ." _like Stefan_, Emily trailed off, unable to voice the thought, unwilling to put that label on Nikolas, not on her Nikolas.

"What happened last night, Nikolas?" Emily forced herself to be calm as she repeated her question. "Who was with you? Who told you that Colleen was working for Helena?"

"It doesn't matter," Nikolas dismissed the issue with a shrug, already having decided to keep the truth from Emily for the moment, he trusted her – he **did**, but he justified the decision by telling himself that he couldn't risk being overheard, not now, not when he knew he couldn't trust any of the staff. "Spencer is all that matters, and by getting rid of Colleen I've kept him safe," _for now_.

* * *

_**Haunted Star**_

"What is **he** doing here?" The first words out of Sonny's mouth when he stepped into the stateroom of the Haunted Star weren't words of welcome, he didn't tell his sister how much he had missed her or how glad he was to see her alive, no he glared at Stefan and demanded an explanation for his presence.

"What?" Courtney could only manage a choked exclamation before Sonny turned to Luke.

"You left him alone with her?" Sonny demanded angrily. "After everything his family has done. This is all their doing and you just left him here."

"God, Sonny," Courtney's voice finally broke into her brother's angry tirade. Her eyes were filled with barely contained tears as Sonny finally turned to look at her.

"What is Stefan doing here?" she repeated his question bitterly. "After two years of thinking I'm dead the first thing you say to me is 'what is he doing here?' Damn you, Sonny, act like my brother for once and pretend you're actually happy to see me, that you're the least bit glad I'm alive."

Before Sonny could reply or Courtney could get more worked up Stefan had him by the arm and pulled him out of the room.

"Tell me, Mr. Corinthos," his tone was frigid as he leveled a contemptuous gaze on the younger man. "Tell me, do you wish to help your sister, to console her for the struggle she has endured, or merely to make yourself feel better by useless displays of bravado after the fact?"

"Of course I want to help Courtney," Sonny glared at Stefan for suggesting otherwise.

"Then perhaps you should start by talking to her, ask her whether or not she considers this helpful."

Turning his back on the mobster Stefan returned to Courtney's room, but only to stand in the doorway and gliding past Spencer he took the seat at her bedside for a moment. "If you wish me to stay, I will," he assured her quietly, "but I think your conversation would go more smoothly in my absence."

Courtney's eyes drifted to where Sonny hovered in the doorway glaring at Stefan. "He doesn't get to just come in here and send you away," she protested.

"He does not," Stefan agreed, "nor would I allow him to do so. I am going of my own accord, because I do not wish to intrude on your reunion."

"Fine," Courtney agreed at last, "I'll talk to him."

"Very good, and if you have need of me, I will be right next door, you have only to call."

Stefan's eyes held a clear warning as he met Sonny's gaze for a moment before he stepped passed him into the hallway, with Luke on his heels he proceeded into the second stateroom.

"What was that all about?" Sonny began the demand the moment the door closed behind Stefan, but before Courtney could protest again he caught himself and started. "I am glad you're alive," he confessed simply as he sat down by her bed and finally took a moment to see her. "And that should have been the first thing I said, I'm sorry."

* * *

_**Wyndemere**_

"Spencer is all that matters, and by getting rid of Colleen I've kept him safe." Nikolas's words echoed in the quiet nursery and Emily's horror mounted.

"Getting rid of?" she whispered. "Tell me you didn't . . ."

"Didn't what?" Nikolas's gaze swung around to clash with Emily's, "Kill her?" He laughed bitterly at the fear in Emily's face, "of course not, she's alive," _barely_, "and under guard until I can get this mess straightened out, until I can be sure she is no longer a threat."

"Thank God," Emily murmured when Nikolas confirmed that Colleen was still alive, that Nikolas hadn't completely lost his mind, but his attention had already wandered back to Spencer. That the child had carried his confusion with him into dreamland was evidenced by the crease in his little brow and the whimpers that occasionally escaped his lips. He calmed down when Nikolas sat down on the edge of the bed and laid a soothing hand on his forehead.

"You should get to the hospital," Nikolas reminded Emily without looking away from his son. "You have rounds soon."

"I don't like to leave you here like this," she protested, not liking the thought of leaving Nikolas alone when he was behaving this way. Uncomfortable memories of the mood swings and violent outbursts of temper that had followed Nikolas's poisoning intruded on Emily's consciousness, but Robin had found a way to clear the last vestiges of poison from Nikolas's blood, hadn't she?

"I'm fine," Nikolas insisted, "and my calendar is pretty clear, there's nothing I can't take care of while watching Spencer."

Emily hesitated for a moment longer but finally relented knowing that if she was late for rounds her attending would pitch a fit.

* * *

_**Haunted Star**_

Sonny and Courtney had lapsed into silence after Sonny's initial greeting and for a few minutes they were just two siblings who'd been separated taking the time to observe the changes in each other. "God," Sonny whispered at last, "you look –"

"Awful," Courtney cut in, "I know, believe me, everyone's taken the opportunity to tell me I look like hell. I'm healing, okay. I'll be fine."

"I was going to say beautiful," Sonny finished drily when Courtney was done with her rant. "It's been so long since I've seen you, I guess I'd just forgotten how beautiful my little sister was – is. 'Is'," he repeated the word with a smile, "that's going to take some getting used to."

"I guess you do look a little banged up, though." With just the back of his knuckles Sonny gently grazed the livid bruise that still colored her cheek, conscious of the fact that it was likely the least of her injuries. "What happened?" he asked quietly, forcing a calm he didn't feel into his voice.

"Getting away from Helena's guards wasn't easy," Courtney muttered, brushing away Sonny's hand and question both. In all honesty her memories of their escape were hazy and somehow she knew she shouldn't dig too deeply into the events of that evening. Something had happened, something she didn't want to remember, and her mind had protected her by dimming the recollection.

"Alright," Sonny wasn't satisfied with that but forced himself to accept the evasion. He remembered what he had said to Courtney when she was 'dead' the words he'd spoken to his sister's corpse and now that somehow he had been given a second chance he wanted to be the better brother he had wished he'd been.

After another awkward moment Sonny realized that was probably the best place to start if he really wanted to change their relationship, "I was just thinking about when you – when you . . ."

"Died?" Courtney filled in for him.

"Yeah, then and I went to the hospital to say - to say goodbye. I told you that I regretted not being a better brother," he admitted. "Did you, could you hear me, do you remember any of that?"

"No," Courtney shook her. "Kind of wish I could; it would have been nice to hear you say something like that," _instead of just hearing you yell at me all the time._

"I said," Sonny hesitated trying to remember exactly what he'd said "I kind of said I was sorry, I guess that's what it was mostly. I said that I was never any good at the brother-sister thing, that 'I didn't know how to listen, how to be there when you needed me or to back of when you didn't.' I said that I had expected to have more time, and so I thought that I'd eventually figure out how to be a good brother. I said that you were a good sister, when I let you be. And I told you that Michael and Morgan loved you, that you were an amazing daughter and that you would have been an amazing mother. I said that we all loved you."

Sonny had stared at his hands through most of the recitation but when he was done he forced himself to look up at Courtney and was surprised to see tear tracks on her cheeks. "I guess the reason I'm saying all this now is 'cause we've kind of been given a second chance and I want you to know that I'm going to try to do better. I want to be a good brother, Courtney. I can't promise that I always will be, but I want to try, if you'll give me another chance."

Gulping back her tears Courtney nodded quickly. "I want that too," she assured him. "I always wanted that."


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_**General Hospital**_

"Hey, Em," Elizabeth smiled her greeting to her friend as Emily paused by the nurse's station after morning rounds.

"Morning, Elizabeth," Emily returned the greeting but not the smile.

"Looks like someone had a rough night," Elizabeth's grin took on a teasing edge. "You and Nikolas went out last night, didn't you? Did someone stay out too late?"

"It's not that," Emily sighed as she leaned against the desk. "Nikolas and I had barely gotten to the restaurant before I was called back to the hospital. And, you know, I've pretty much gotten used to the late nights working here, but when I got home . . ." Emily sighed again and Elizabeth sobered seeing the worry in her friend's eyes. "I don't know, something's up with Nikolas and he won't talk to me about it."

"Surely he wasn't upset because you had to cancel your dinner plans?" Elizabeth asked with some surprise, managing the Cassadine estate took enough of Nikolas's time that he should understand Emily's demanding schedule.

"No," Emily shook her head. "I don't think that's it. It's . . ." She drew in a deep breath, telling anyone felt a bit like a betrayal but Liz was her friend and she had to talk to someone. "I'm actually really worried about him, he's acting a little . . . off. Kind of . . . paranoid." She shook her head meeting Elizabeth's worried gaze. "He fired Colleen."

"Spencer's nanny?" Elizabeth didn't even try to hide her surprise, Colleen had been with Nikolas and Spencer since shortly after Nikolas took custody of his son.

"Yeah, and he didn't just fire her, she's **gone**." Emily met Elizabeth's wide-eyed stare. "He says she was working for Helena, but . . . he won't explain anything. He just says that he confronted her about it and that she confessed . . . eventually."

"Eventually?"

"Yeah, I know, right?" Emily bit her lip. "I don't even want to think about what he might have done to convince her to 'confess' to such a thing. Whatever it was . . . Nikolas was drunk when I got home, and he was . . . he was just . . . he was sitting there on the floor in the nursery watching Spencer sleep. And then this morning . . . he insisted that no one be left alone with Spencer, not even Alfred."

"And he won't talk to me about any of it," Emily let out a frustrated groan. "I don't know what to do."

"Have you mentioned any of this to Lucky?"

_**

* * *

**_

Wyndemere

Nikolas was sitting behind the desk in his study studying an old photograph when his brother arrived. He had set up a Pack'n Play in the corner of the office, ostensibly so that he could watch his son while he took care of some business but no business had been accomplished in the last several hours. While Spencer was awake Nikolas had lavished him with attention and when he had laid the child down for his afternoon nap Nikolas had returned to his desk but had not even managed to turn on his computer or pick up his phone.

"Emily sent you?" Nikolas asked has he slipped the picture into a desk drawer and hoped his brother wouldn't ask about it. He shouldn't have even had it out – he'd known Emily would call someone to check on him, that it was Lucky didn't surprise him in the slightest.

"She's worried about you," Lucky acknowledged as he took a seat across the desk from his brother.

"She doesn't need to be," Nikolas's response was automatic, even though this time he wasn't sure of its truth. "I have things under control."

"Yeah?" Lucky's settled on the child sleeping in the Pack'n Play in the corner. "I can see that."

"Don't start, Lucky," Nikolas heard the unasked question. "Colleen was working for Helena."

"And you know this how, exactly?"

"She confessed."

"Right, of course. So last night after putting Spencer to bed she just came up to you and said 'by the way Mr. Cassadine, I think you should probably know that I'm working for your grandmother. Somehow, I don't see that happening."

"I found out first through an independent source." _Stefan told me_ – if Nikolas gave him the truth, Lucky would think he really had lost his mind. In the light of day Nikolas even found himself wondering if the events of the last evening had been an alcohol induced hallucination, but he hadn't started drinking until after, had he?

"I confronted her about what I had learned and she confessed." _Madame, she contacts me when she's here and she wishes to see Spencer . . . I just, I was afraid of her, I did what she told me to do_.

"This independent source –"

"Drop it, Lucky," Nikolas interrupted.

Lucky raised his hands in a gesture of surrender when he heard the harsh tone in his brother's voice. "Alright, no prying into your sources – got it."

"I'm sorry," Nikolas rubbed a hand across his forehead, as if he could physically wipe away the building guilt. Lucky more than anyone deserved the truth, but his history with Stefan. . . No, the truth was definitely out, but he couldn't not warn Lucky that Helena was coming, not after everything that his brother had suffered at her hands.

"So what did you do about Colleen?" Lucky interrupted his thoughts, "after she confessed I mean."

"I sent her somewhere safe," Nikolas accepted the slight change in subject gratefully.

"Safe for you or safe for her?"

"Safe for Spencer. . . for both of them actually. Helena's never been particularly gentle with pawns who have outlived their usefulness and Colleen stopped being useful when I discovered her deception. If Helena can't find her, then she can't kill her."

Lucky acknowledged the point with a nod and almost missed Nikolas's muttered conclusion. "And if I don't have to look at her, maybe I won't be tempted to kill her either."

"Nik?"

"I wouldn't actually kill her." _I don't have much experience with murder, I don't know how tight I can make my hold before I crush your trachea, or how long I can deprive you of oxygen before your brain is irreversibly damaged. _Nikolas knew that it was what his brother needed to hear, "but when I found out what she'd done – that she'd let Helena visit Spencer, yes, I wanted to kill her."

"Just as long as you resisted temptation."

_**

* * *

**_

The Haunted Star

"Your brother's visit has left you unsettled," Stefan observed, Courtney had been unusually quiet after Sonny's departure the evening before and had yet to speak of it this morning. "Did he say something to upset you further after I left?"

"No, he was actually pretty decent after you left. He said he wants to try to be a better brother this time around." Courtney sighed, "It was a nice sentiment; I just wish that I believed he would be able to live up to it."

"Maybe he will; this kind of second chance doesn't happen very often – maybe he's realized how important you are to his life."

"Stefan Cassadine, the voice of optimism?"

"I want you to be happy," Stefan ignored the teasing that he knew was an attempt to deflect his attention. Courtney didn't want to hope that her brother would change because if she didn't hope for it she wouldn't be disappointed when it didn't happen. "I think your brother wants the same, maybe he has learned-"

Stefan broke off mid-sentence, turning toward the door as he heard the barely perceptible sound of the door handle turning – it was still morning, they didn't expect to see either Luke or Robert for several hours yet.

Tracy knew her husband better than most people realized, and she always knew when he was hiding something. Of course, Luke was always hiding something, but this time – this time he was putting effort into it. If Luke was letting someone stay at the Star he was getting something out of it one way or another – her money was on a woman – and Tracy wasn't going to let that go unpunished.

"Alright you little strumpet, I don't know what my husband may have told you but he doesn't . . ." Tracy had started her rant before opening the door but she trailed off as she caught sight of a man standing in front of the bed in the stateroom.

"Strumpet," Stefan repeated the word, some of the tension leaching from his body as he turned to face Tracy Quartermaine. "I don't believe anyone's ever called me a strumpet before," he observed dryly. "I do not believe that the appellation suits me."

"Stefan Cassadine?" Tracy's shock was palpable. "You're the one Luke's been hiding here!"

"Ms. Quartermaine," Stefan acknowledged. "No, I understand you have recently married; my condolences, Mrs. _Spencer_."

"But Luke hates you," still caught up in her shock, Tracy ignored the barb. Anyone less familiar with the Spencers and Cassadines might have mentioned that Stefan was supposed to be dead first, but Tracy knew the parties involved better than that. Stefan's apparent resurrection was less surprising than Luke's apparent willingness to help the man.

"The feeling is mutual, but we are both willing to set that aside while dealing with a common enemy."

_**

* * *

**_

Wyndemere

"I'm a good father."

Lucky looked up in surprise, not at the statement itself, but at the fact that Nikolas seemed to think it needed to be made – and at the tinge of desperation in the voice that delivered it.

"Yes, you are," he agreed after a moment.

"I love my son and I want what's best for him," Nikolas continued as if he hadn't heard Lucky's affirmation.

"No one doubts that," Lucky assured him, trying to get Nikolas to look at him.

"And I would never do anything that I thought would hurt him."

"Alright who are you trying to convince here, Nik?" Lucky's voice rose as he tried to get his brother's attention. "Yeah, you've got us a little freaked with this Colleen situation, but no one is suggesting that you aren't a good father or that you'd hurt Spencer."

"What if someone was?" Nikolas snapped into focus, finally meeting Lucky's gaze. "What if someone said that I had done something terrible, something – something **Cassadine**; would you believe them?" Nikolas seldom alluded to his family history, but for Lucky that better than any other would summarize the impact of what Nikolas was going to be accused of."

"What's going on, Nikolas?" this sudden change in subject was beginning to worry Lucky – **had** Nikolas done something to Colleen?

"You didn't answer the question," Nikolas reminded him in a flat tone – afraid that the failure to answer was an answer itself – after all this time, his brother still didn't trust him.

"Of course I wouldn't believe it," Lucky answered this time without hesitation. "Now do you want to tell me the hell is going on?"

"I can't, not yet, but you'll find out soon."

"Alright, Nik you're really starting to scare me here. You need to tell me what this is all about."

"I would if I could, Lucky," Nikolas's gaze was haunted, "but it's not; I can't – I can't say anything."

He shook his head, "Things are about to get bad, Lucky, this thing with Colleen is the least of it. Helena's on her way to Port Charles. Hell, she's probably already here. I can't tell you yet, but it's going to be bad, it's going to be really bad."

"Have you talked to my dad about any of this?" Lucky asked. "He'd help you against Helena – he knows her better than anyone."

"No!" Nikolas's denial was immediate – and automatic. He and Luke may have made peace over the years, but with Stefan involved he wouldn't bring in Luke. "Promise me you won't say anything to Luke, not yet."

_**

* * *

**_

The Haunted Star

"A common enemy," Tracy repeated the Stefan's pronouncement with a sigh, Luke's earlier assurance suddenly making sense. _Just the pure pleasure of screwing over an old enemy_. "Your mother's back in town," she concluded. "So Helena's back and you're apparently not dead and you've decided to drag my husband into yet another of your interminable wars. Why am I not surprised?"

"You give me far too much credit, Mrs. Spencer," Stefan assured her, "if you imagine I could influence your husband to do anything against his will. I asked only for a hiding place for a few days; any involvement he has beyond that is his own idea, no dragging necessary."

"Alright, first, cut it out with the Mrs. Spencer crap," Tracy cut in, "it's Quartermaine, and second I know very well Luke's always ready for a fight with your mother, but you must need him for something or else you wouldn't have come here to hide out – you would have gone straight to Wyndemere."

"I assure you, I asked for nothing from Luke save a place to stay and access to a trustworthy physician."

"And Nikolas couldn't get you those things?" Tracy countered.

"I didn't want to see Nikolas." From the moment she saw Stefan Tracy had been so focused on him that she had failed to notice the other figure in the room until Courtney spoke.

"Who – I thought you were dead!" Seeing Stefan Cassadine had been a surprise, but Tracy was honestly shocked to see Courtney Matthews.

"You thought I was dead, too, but you don't seem that surprised to see me," Stefan observed.

"Oh please, you've faked your death before and you were facing murder charges – so really, I'm not that surprised to find out that was a con. But this one, she died in a hospital, and she had no reason to skip town."

Tracy turned to the younger woman who hadn't stirred from the bed and for the first time really noticed her condition. "What the hell happened to you?"

Courtney raised a self-conscious hand to her face, reminded once again of the bruises that gave testament to her ordeal. "Does it really look that bad?" she asked.

"My mother's hospitality leaves something to be desired and her guards were loath to let us leave," Stefan answered Tracy's question first and then directed his attention to Courtney. "The bruises will fade," he assured her, "and you shouldn't have any scars." Not physical ones, anyway.

_**

* * *

**_

Kelly's

"Hey Liz, Em," Lucky wasn't surprised to find the two of them waiting for him together. He'd called Emily as soon as he'd left Wyndemere, and, knowing that her shift was almost over, he'd asked her to meet him at Kelly's.

"Lucky," Emily managed a tentative smile as she met her best friend's gaze. "Did he tell you what's going on?"

"No," Lucky shook his head. "He said that Helena's coming back, but that's all I could get out of him and he wouldn't even tell me how he knew that." Lucky sighed, "Whatever's going down has him seriously freaked. I've never seen him like this – never."

"If it's Helena, why wouldn't he tell you?" Liz asked. "I mean given everything that's happened I think he'd at least owe you a head's up."

"I don't know," Lucky had been seriously frustrated by his meeting with Nikolas, but Nikolas's fear had been palpable and that made Lucky hesitant to push too hard.

"He told me that things were going to get bad and that Helena was coming back – so I guess that was a head's up, but then he just clammed up, insisted that he couldn't say anything else."

"The weirdest part is – he made me promise not to tell Dad. That's weird right? I mean Helena's on her way back to town – why wouldn't he want Dad to know that?"

The girls shared a troubled glance before looking back at Lucky. "It doesn't make sense. He knows that as far as Helena goes, Luke's on his side," Emily acknowledged. "I mean they've teamed up against her before."

"I'm sorry that I couldn't help more," Lucky offered Emily a half smile. "Whatever it is, he's just not ready to share."

_**

* * *

**_

The Haunted Star

"So what's the plan now, Tracy?"

Surprisingly the question came from Courtney, not Stefan. Or perhaps it wasn't surprising, while Stefan had taken the lead in the conversation, that particular question too direct to be his style.

"What plan?"

"You wanted to know what Luke was hiding and now you do. And now you have a choice to make. What are you going to do about his secret – about us?"

"I could call the police," Tracy suggested, looking towards Stefan. "If you're not dead you can still be charged with murder after all. And you were trying to kill my beloved niece."

"You don't even like Emily," Courtney pointed out.

"The individual who committed that crime may have been masquerading as me, but he is dead and I will not be held answerable for his sins," Stefan denied.

"Really?" Tracy's voice held more than a touch of disbelief.

"Really," Stefan asserted confidently.

"Calling the police would be counter-productive anyway," Tracy acknowledged after a pause. "They'd probably arrest Luke right along with you for harboring a fugitive and I've got no desire to bail him out of jail again."

Tracy paused again as she weighed her options. "I assume there's a reason that you two are hiding out here instead of just going home."

"There is," Stefan affirmed simply – he had no intention of offering details that had not been requested.

"And how long do you intend to stay?"

"Another day – two at most, just until Courtney's doctor says it's safe to move her."

"Alright then," Tracy nodded. "Enjoy your stay and tell Luke I'll see him at home."

"That's it?" Courtney turned to Stefan after watching Tracy sail out of the door.

"Tracy gains nothing by exposing us, and by keeping his secrets without his asking she gains something in this game she and Luke are playing."

"Game? I thought they were married."

"I don't think they know the difference."


End file.
